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Assortment I

___



opening the parentheses
legs, shaking
without a clear noticing
the potential of truth
under my skin
outside my knowledge
demanding and fueled
I seek the line
where a full stop
can be placed
a comma does the job
to see the end
I will be forced to say
“you made
a writer out of me”
intoxicated
words acting like drawings
an unclear depiction
of passion, of torment
and in-between  
silence is our only alternative
but the writer can’t die
and I don’t know it yet.



chasing the thing I thought what I wanted
exposes the nature of the chase and awareness is often enough to drop a desire
take a seat please, we’ve arrested your subject
if only you knew you are running on a treadmill
all roads lead to you, still, somewhere
when you first found me,
what happened?
big bang big big bang big bang bang
pounded
worlds founded
words collided
self attributed
sacrificial
saint-like
why so loving
from the chair I’m sitting
on
hear me
awareness,, hiss
wanting the thing I thought I wanted
a kiss
yield
it’s over!



easy thread
sweet spot



oscillations begin
no ends make sense
until pendulum stops



an assortment of fluff



I was waiting on a skin shed
not knowing how to actually
make a new one and yet
scraping off crumbly surfaces
had become a practice



drag back to analog



for a while seeing the right things but holding the wrong tools in hands



that no one has the time for licking three more times an undone rolled cigarette



burning, still



pour, water



right wrist always tired
from either writing or
pleasure with fellow fingers



thrust back to analog



on the edges of personal insight



to start
from where
you know



things hurt on this surface



I wasn’t saving the world, just saving myself on an excavation site
you and I both had this in common,
that we took too seriously, this life
in times we did not, it would spill out, in wrong stupid places



personal insight



my body under the sun
like an overheated machine
making noises, hiss,,



and when I think about it
about things
there is a pattern for when lovers have left me
always for a vegetarian instead



I kept devouring meat in a little corner



smudged my face in non-dairy-free yoghurt
a real one,



and fried eggs one after the other



remembering is amusing now
revenge highly entertaining



you see I don’t even talk about you anymore,



hand me the remote control?


05. 22