I have the chills. What am I doing… numbing… Mental breakdown- Mental breakdown- Hips- cold.
I don’t why. I remember looking up at him.
But the kaleidoscope of phallic images was not what I thought I wanted.
Dancing- jagged sharp steps counter-intuitively stylized- I will forever know to count the beat and ride the wave of intuition.
What was I to him- for him?
Definitions feel heavy and forced onto me
The listless whore-
moans thirsting for satiation like hunger pangs
For the moments that enslave the parasite of pursuit
Cold to the touch
Warming only to the brush of chemical euphoria
Unloved by selfish beings that stomp clumsily over my selfish distress
Just to be groped wildly
Paws at my supple chest
What am I?
Decisions to be lost in the perfunctory music of automatica
Who indifferently swallows the color blue
Please G-d, be alive-
I don’t want to be alone anymore