compile: root manic (12/;/2018)
'Like he said you get small and you can see yourself and you tell yourself he needs to go to sleep yeah he needs to go to sleep he needs to shut his eyes and relax before he can feel how small he is and how big his pulse is, creeping like spiders across his psyche, his unconscious world pulled tight like babyskin, shaking him awake under the sting of panic over phantoms that were never there.
shit he's awake. Shit he's awake. Oh shit the whole bed feels like forever, under and inside at the same time, a whole safari of void, of anxiety, of shrinking, expanding fear flipping inside out
And next to you, laying there, breaths so still and serene
is an impossibly inert nothing.
you see thru her. You see thru everything. everything tastes like half a ground up fever capsule on a spoon with jam that your mom used to feed you when you were sick, but it never quite quelled that quiet hell of being sick with soothing wrath and rancor. '
and I got lost
I got lost
in a flow, an omniflux
of a sky described by the first upright apes
a mirror shattered against the unyielding wall of history
writing like a glacier moves :
(we tried to hold it back
but our flesh is feeble
our numbers too few
only in mere billions
bowed green against the ebb
we have no choice
Our machines whirring, clicking, stamping away in organized pleasure
an atoms breadth away from total shaking destruction
from complete well-oiled annihilation
too much momentum, it's
too much momentum, it's
too much momentum
and I can't feel my way in this world anymore
gossiping by a fire, crackling tin adjaescent to
she was always sitting so much closer to him
this guy she told me was her brother [is she her step brother or was that a lie? who is she lying to?]
Who is she lying to?
he pretends to smith a red hot bolt
and ive never tasted death so close
and it's never hurt this bad before
and it never went away.
in 20 years when I tongue my teeth set so much straighter by plain-gummed men, i can still line my mind:
a clear core of molten quartz in a maelstrom buried in a maelstrom buried in a maelstrom buried in a
I can still line my mind with this exact minute I'd been cleft by the collapse of truth,
in wet ricochet
against the soft organs in my chest
held stiff and swallowed
fed for a decade of broiled, bitten tongues .
and the best i can come up with is only a question absorbed into damp, soundproof sponges
hanging on a wall in an apartment somewhere
'who were you lying to?'
everything is flat from here on in.
everything is small