Saturday 5/20/2006 11:00:00 PM

Worn out teddy bear on pillows made of skin. There stared the drain into me as I asked it what it planned on stealing next.

Following the pipes. Chasing the trickle. Only sunk me deeper into the darkness.

It's a perpetual lie. Breathing for fear of what I wish to do. Living because I don't know how to die.

Nothing to regret except having been born. Having not tried harder to find a way to undo it.

No cancer high can lift me out of this obstinate stupor. No sclerosis forthcoming can quench this ire.

Baby's stare in the head of a man. I won't change your diaper.

A sudden apocalypse erupts from the sanity that holds me hostage.

In finding myself I feel at a disadvantage.

Sight the accuser. Don't you dare pretend to know what I see. You look into my eyes. Not out from. You are the witness, but I'm the one on trial.

Telling your stories. I hate being the third person. I hate the way their lips move when they talk about.

As if they found that zipper. Stopped looking in on and finally saw out.

You can have my flesh. I don't mind. It's nothing without its skeleton.

You can have my eyes, whatever color you think they are. I don't mind. Sight is a shallow cross. And all this skin I wear only means having to feel them.

I can prosecute the flesh until every jury forgives. Save the ideal. Discard the evidence. We never see. Eyes open. Only to feel.


Weakness in controlled doses. Strength the only drug that's ever let me down.

I almost thought I knew them.

Or that I'd lost myself in letting it show.


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