We interrupt your merry programming for 2015

So maybe you’re sick
or not
or maybe it’s all the sound of breaking glass
dripping down your throat
while water runs freely
holding in the air the full perfume of the cup,
so
I’ll try and listen to you
and keep on drawing

The memories of the people I loved
that I left behind
looking for deeper
cleaner
stronger shores
within the pockets of screams that bounce off the walls of a lonely room
while the chip
eats my brain
and leaves open my heart to love
like a mere five minute Skype call that can never be trusted as sincere
or unreal
since there’s nothing but a knot in the stomach when the silence hits
and you arrived too late for me
to believe
that anyone can go smooth about life
while riding on the truth of a pointy fingertip
bareback

My cerebellum, my gut and my throat
would very much appreciate if I can stop all the memories
of what we never were while in highschool,
kidding ourselves
about how much we really know
or not
about the blade of grass that our sanity has become
and I’d love too if they,
in a single scream,
release the memories of ten or twelve or fifteen years ago
dropping the pretense
that a cocaine haze in the nineties
and the mulled clashing of bones and kisses
were better than the MDMA beating
we got now for rythm

And so on, on, on,
there’s now this horizontal bouncing of LoveForce
and I’m trying to curry the favor of that flame,
revolutionary love and home-grown sweaters,
feeling we arrived at separation
of Beginning and End
the feeling of nations tearing up
brings new luggage
less baggage
and a whole new mindset
that gives you toxicity and sweetness in the same breath
we are the crystals inside the tongue of the afterparty in the world

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