you
couldn’t see me. you understood vaguely. you needed emotionality. by temples
our disgusts, for I was innocence, where you were burnt-out watts. if flowers
bloomed, in a rundown tenement, you hated the beauty of their dungeon. you
would nurture anger. you would wean off patience. (a soul must submit, he must
die pleasing leviathan, he mustn’t complain—while still, the monster was angry.)
“The study of nothingness, where I need you, but I need you to need me. I want
to feel normal. I desire applause. but worlds have repudiated my kind. You seem
uncomfortable. You seem so much a refusal. How would you unglue us?” by grace
those years, so intimate with disorder, while chasms pitted language, where you
denied me my freedom. “Are you leaving? You can’t leave me. I hate the way you
ignore me!” such tetras or checkers or much surprise by desert chess. such
tigers as ravishing existence to come to particular hatred—to abhor beauty to
label it as fraudulent or systems of chaotic characters—the personas of madness
a need for receptivity a ruling force seeking my destruction. “Don’t you love
me? I’m just tired/sick/in pain. You must take care of me.” so many boxes so
high he was low such when liquor pleases nothing. mental video tapes, interior
stenographs, or raw, unforgiving, tragic blueprints. “You know I love you. I
would never “intentionally” hurt you. I have no control over myself.” such
uncooked, uneasy, pure, strategic, emotional blackmail! it’s a bastille it’s
uneven desperation, it watches, taking cues, searching for emotionality. where
a kid grows into an adult. one needs those emotions. where failure to comply
denotes a negative horizon; for “I need you to parakeet for me, I need your
uncensored despondence, else, I will label you.” indeed, I try kindness, or
understanding, or passivity—but nothing redeems except pure, raw
emotionality—while one is a reserved cheetah! “I need money. I need a man. I
need someone to keep me company.” the room is dreary, dark, dangerous or cold;
those utensils stop singing, they would become destitute, anger looks like fire.
those cobwebs
those dear dungeon cries where rage finds no one knows me. behaving is with
contempt. others must cater to me. or one needs total control—over mind,
emotion, plus, responses. such molten sociality or intelligence astray or
intuition acting by persuasion. we condemn while acting in like substance where
we exonerate our mirrors. a son carries his mother, a father disappears, those
two are left to a peculiar struggle. if negative where it becomes normality a
person is in need of a positive example. when two are screaming, anger is
building, one must take initiative. such nausea such simple aphorisms, while
often nothing is its activity aside for much agitation. pure bondage. purer
riffs. so absent from normal!
