i wanted a faraway dream of tacky shit and tidy cheese and cutesy ditzy polka dot cups hanging from hooks made of recently-saved-from-environmental-disaster antelopes' gratefulness tears. i craved to be part of this wave of what seemed like happy people, all neatly packed in their adorable rounded-corner boxes, commenting freely with spot-on jokes on items on the list of shared interests. they felt elegant, styled and easy.
well, obviously this hadn't worked or i hadn't performed correctly. i guess it was the snorting when laughing or once farting when fallen asleep on the sofa in the shared living room. i was replaced. removed. swept to the side while a new bride took my place. a squeaky girl, all ready with sparkles and smiles, whilst my greasy clothed body still in extended arms hug position, begins to feel the pain of emptiness.
now, i am not a victim out of choice, but i am a victim out of need. how else would i dare to see eye to eye with myself in the mirror again otherwise? i did what i had to. i tied the loose ends. i cleaned up my act. i wore black eyeliner. i got allopecia treatment. i fed myself with my hands, took my bones to the therapist, dragged my flesh to the city, plonked the weight on the garden chair, smiled and smelled and followed the scents to the one fine point i saw still amongst the swirls of fuzzy background and drunken traffic. a fine point so elegant and well-defined i stopped breathing and my heart promised to never beat again if i lost.
but this time it's been different. the willing pride has flinched and now doesn't care much for pleasantries. it's true you can't. it's true i may not be right. it's true. it's all true. but how else can i stand up when all i can clearly see is your point? and how else to convince the self that being what it is was not a disaster? that holding your hand was not out of need but out of desire?
and what more can i say to show i'm not wasting time, i'm not useless, i'm not stupid, i'm not selfish, i'm not careless, i'm not trying to irritate and i really do want everyone to be happy? meanings of words and waves of bland imagery projections on stained sheets skew perception occasionally. but unless we see how balance is happiness, we will have died without living. you will have died and i will dissolve into nothing.
i thought this would nurse my apparent lack of know-how in being and thinking. i thought it would ensure i am loved. pretty good as self-preservation goes, despite actions required of me going against the grain of want to be expressive freely and being un-contained in posture and mind frame.
well, obviously this hadn't worked or i hadn't performed correctly. i guess it was the snorting when laughing or once farting when fallen asleep on the sofa in the shared living room. i was replaced. removed. swept to the side while a new bride took my place. a squeaky girl, all ready with sparkles and smiles, whilst my greasy clothed body still in extended arms hug position, begins to feel the pain of emptiness.
now, i am not a victim out of choice, but i am a victim out of need. how else would i dare to see eye to eye with myself in the mirror again otherwise? i did what i had to. i tied the loose ends. i cleaned up my act. i wore black eyeliner. i got allopecia treatment. i fed myself with my hands, took my bones to the therapist, dragged my flesh to the city, plonked the weight on the garden chair, smiled and smelled and followed the scents to the one fine point i saw still amongst the swirls of fuzzy background and drunken traffic. a fine point so elegant and well-defined i stopped breathing and my heart promised to never beat again if i lost.
but this time it's been different. the willing pride has flinched and now doesn't care much for pleasantries. it's true you can't. it's true i may not be right. it's true. it's all true. but how else can i stand up when all i can clearly see is your point? and how else to convince the self that being what it is was not a disaster? that holding your hand was not out of need but out of desire?
and what more can i say to show i'm not wasting time, i'm not useless, i'm not stupid, i'm not selfish, i'm not careless, i'm not trying to irritate and i really do want everyone to be happy? meanings of words and waves of bland imagery projections on stained sheets skew perception occasionally. but unless we see how balance is happiness, we will have died without living. you will have died and i will dissolve into nothing.
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