what i used to love has been pushed way way over
softer things, disciplined behaviors
mint tea, hate it
no bread, just spinach
no.
running the length of the city- from one body of water to the other
no.
perfect nails, hair dyed, body thin.
No.
I hate the way I had to run to calm down, but I had to.
when I was the sickest they always liked me more.
People think your happy, or they feel happy
when your thinner
it was always with me.
fast fast fast fast fast fast everything cranked up to the max max max
water, running, levitate above my bed, sleeping w/ one eye closed, the other still going
how cartoons see everything, around the corners even
I didn't need anything when it was like this
I didn't need.
I only needed out- get all the energy out
a racing body, a mind whipped into a tense, muscular trajectory: go.
no amount of activity, work, love, people, places could soothe the big and manic throbbing.
and then there is always this too.
the long and heavy drop
the sinking down
heavy meat dropping in a cold sea. under a starless sky
the red flesh becoming purple, then grey and finally gone.
a mass at the bottom, the sting, the sand slurping it down.
It becomes a settling that begins to look like decomposing.
The terrible part is
I don't.
I stay there, wholly intact, conscious. Invisible in the darkness, without limbs, without a face.
It's impossible to feel that old spinning, the energy required to pull out of this plucked out like death.
everything is this limbless, drowned state, pulling down-
I want so bad to have back the mania, that insane urge to make make make,
it just went, the terrible bulldozer inside, involuntary
the shaking and levitating. set to ON.
NO.
is so absurd, how its too fast and the inability to hear, touch down
or this
buried, amoeba like, motionless, utter sadness under layers and layers of millions of pounds of sand
pressing down under millions of gallons of dark salt water
I want them to come find me here.
Under all the sand I am still here.
