Fine
Act everwhichway you want with me
in opposites in a backwards tumbling crashing
fall, I've never felt so inadequate before so
inarticulate like I can't tell you how little I feel which is
in complete contradiction of the deafening roar of
constant melodic noise, the soundtrack to our haphazard romance
which I initiated in the first place, so how am I supposed to
back out now? How am I supposed to pretend like I
haven't given you everything? To make you want me?
This is just so natural and yet so syndicated so artificial in its
own paradox, I can't see through the knots anymore I can't
make clarity out of chaos I can't make right out of wrong I've
turned too many corners that end this way. The complete lack
of control is my astounding humiliating amusing harming ability
to forget. Hello, conscience. It's been a while.
Around you I lose all sense of what proper(ty) should be.
I just want you to hold me, I just want you to tell me that I'm
more than just. I can't compete anymore, skilled now in
the art of losing, and yet you still reach out at night and press your
want against my need and it's all okay it's all right it's all—
Complete and utter defeat of the purpose, my purpose;
to care? Is it too much to ask for more than just
touch more than just empathy through energy? For
the first time in my life, I want words, I want real I
want tangible. If this is boundless if this is uninhibited
why do I feel so constrained, my thoughts in chains,
pulsing pulsing pulsing through my veins like something…
Wonderful. How could it be wonderful? You belittle
me, and somehow still hold true to my attention, my integrity
cowering, me! I'm stronger than this I'm better than this
I know I'm something fictional, I think I feel I love, I
know how, right? Please tell me when I mean something and
in the meantime
Fine