itchy eyes

because you are not here to join your own story i have made it my own. i have made it a dream and little else. an abstract being rubbed out. you’re like an astronaut. your muscles require nutrient. you have conquered death. you feel one great tug. repeat. the distance looking down seems but so much further than the distance looking up had ever been. see those dark things that look like shadows? they are bruises. imagine a desert at night, and you are just a little asp. it is the exact moment you opened your eyes for the first time and swallowed a little of air with this scream. but it looks like its something else. muster all the passion that remains inside you and dive alone, shedding fear like a filthy garment. find the small hard heart. bathe it in light. make it a brooch for all to envy. one day you’re gonna move to morocco where you hear it rains 346 mm/year. you’ll notice the wrinkles on your skin. the remainder of you is river rock smooth. read kafka. secretly wish you shared his fate, and hate yourself for allowing this secret to shape you. take off your shirt. take of my shirt. lay down with me. we are two, fighting for what most people throw away. your hands are still your hands. warm and small and painted beryl. i never get tired looking at you. i never worry if you’re smarter than me, cuz i know you are. and tho you may be brilliant  you copped all my one-liners.


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