I hate who I am when I’m around you. I really do. It’s barely been twenty-four hours and I’m fourteen again. Remember when I used to hide? In size I am far too large to manage the enclosed spaces. I don’t want to go back to then. I’m tired of metaphors and analogies. My head [...]

I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I scorn at the flesh and blood we share, it simmers and jabs at me creating ulcers, animosity and self disdain. You are the illness within me, this parasite consuming, overwhelming. Could you ever possibly understand? I retreat into myself and I am sick to stomach. [...]

crazy.

could it be
that i am so cold i am with fever?
if only i could find a name for this disease
but there are no finding symptoms
i check myself in
could this be an emergency?
nurses in sponge divert their eyes
begin with the h (speak not such a word)
the bottom of the rolling bed
placebo filled iv
injecting
paranoia
into my veins
the floors [...]

as plainly as i can speak

if you can’t fall into my giveaways,
i should perhaps fall into a silence.
i am not the loving kind, not yet, in the skin sort of skin.
i speak in riddles and craft and touch, brush and buss
(the former the skewer of the lot, rely little on hormal imbalances)
but here and only here
at this point
i will admit [...]

You used to ease through my mind like pornography, grabbing hold of every moral thought and fucking them, slowly and painlessly. You moved like music, your skin, my skin, perfection.
How little we move, we change, within five or so years. I will never be new. At least it’s not simply as terrible. Or perhaps it [...]

i/can’tconcentrate

maybe you only thought you wanted a bite

this is not my human skin—- i am no seraphim
there is no guise under the ruse of my mortality
(but that makes little sense)

in fruit, imagine a lemon: in small doses and a dash of sugar
you simply cannot get enough
and still
to get to enough for a taste
hours of labour
restless hands
you near dementia
while simply squeezing and squeezing
just [...]

prose for the leet

my user interface is malfunctioning
i am in desperate need of electromagnetic surgery
pneumatica automata coin operated machine
(the beginning was the ending)
my astronomical clock has been miscalculated, modern-multitask a failure of devices (there are no acrobatics in this humanoid, not anymore)
in the most logical of senses
it comes together (complete in sequence)
operating systems and flash memory blurring into [...]

This repulsive cold in the air has created an itch in me
Despite the albatross manner in which this blanket sits around me, I cannot bring down this itch upon (and in and out and under) her. It covers me, in desperation, a coalition to breathing. In this envelope, she is the catalyst to the ending. [...]

What does this even mean, Deena?

After thirty-five injurious, felicitous, inebriated and (fay-tiptoed) phantasmic hours, a lucid dream fell over me—-
culling into me.
It was heavy, creating
interruption and
altercation on the
hollow of my stitching.
I’m creating a concoction, don’t you know, an equation for separation and the make-shift nuances of odalisques. Stir twice, call true, this trumpeting kiss observes rhapsody and sweet. [...]