it was like i couldn't breath i couldn't swallow my
breath and couldn't stop from feeling like my heart was jumping out of my
chest. ridiculing my own inability to cope with the stress, the burden of the
distance the utter loneliness and despair. so totally alone in
this bubble of a body that swells and shrinks at my command. i command thee,
shrink, shrink to a minute detail on the wall, don’t be seen. shrink shrink,
fade out become absorbed by surroundings and get swallowed by my own breath.
the lump in my throat is growing. it’s visible to the naked eye, the lump it
beats with my heart and it is a strange sight indeed. the lump just sits there,
growing, commanding and halting life in front of me, what power it has, it
consumes the energy from the lump in my chest and it steals the shimmer in my
eyes, it blurs my sight, my vision becomes dark, my heart falls between my feet
and then again there i am standing with it all exposed.
laugh at it, go ahead
it’s not a matter anymore, what is the matter anymore. doesn't even matter
anymore. just another. just another matter among matter, and then slowly fading,
ageing and wrinkling, alone and shrewd, bitter and dried out humour, dried eyes
and a parched mouth. sticking to myself. sticking itself to the roof of my
mouth. my tongue is absent, it fails to move, it fails to speak. the thoughts
float on by and are forever forgotten like the girl who sits in the corner
wallowing in self-pity soon to be forgotten, never again to be heard from,
there is no sorrow, it is in good fun, there is nothing to understand anyway.
it’s in good fun. it’s ok because we’re all scum anyway right. whose scum do i
allow near me, whose scum is bearable enough. who can bear my
scum. when two scums come together they form more dirt than ever, filth, filthy
lies of affection, of connection, of appreciation and of trust, oh of trust,
what a dump. the trust we lost as soon as we were expelled from the womb and
now we search everlasting like blind rats for trust, for hope, but we search in
tunnels of scum, of sewage of treacherous alleyways, in drunken states hoping
yes hoping to return to a state of trust, of comfort of forgiveness, like utter
forgiveness for our own scummy ways. It’s not there it’s not here it’s not
anywhere i tell you. jump from the roof and you will see that the trust is inside of your lump waiting to burst into a million molecules of flesh and blood. oh of blood. the trust is there,
you cut me and i bleed, i trust in
that. you scorn me and i shall bleed even more, you disregard me you mock
my scum filled brain and i bleed, i bleed inside. and the bleeding clots in my heart
and forms lumps in my throat and i cannot swallow, for i only swallow blood, and
i choke, i choke on it and i spew blood all over this scummy place and we can
roll around in each other’s scum, but i can’t trust that you would appreciate
it, as your scum is just as ineffectual as mine.
we’re caged, caged in our burdensome search for trust which i tell you again cannot be found, unless you
plummet from the top of a building. the serenity of it is mind blowing. the
fascination, the blood splattering everywhere the crunching and the moaning, oh
how i could roll in this scum for a while and really trust in me i will enjoy
it. fickle no? but i still cannot breath, i’ve been pretending to do so for a
while now and i even believe my own damned lies and tell myself that yes it’s
there the trust the air that i breathe it’s real and it does penetrate deep
into my blood filled veins and pumps into my soiled heart and yes it feels, it
feels when it’s not consumed by it’s own scumminess. goodness me where can we go
with this anymore. we’ve been depriving one another for so long now and it’s
about time to put your face in the scum you’ve created and eat what you can,
spare the scraps for the birds and the strays to wallow in their own self-pity
and scavenge for remains. they are scum too, i tell you. but they are wise and
do not trust the others to open anything for them, for they have been here
before they have seen for the most part the scummy nature of things. there is a
very deep understanding, we shall not call it trust, of this. open up your
mouth and taste the bloody mess of it all, it’s very satisfying to taste the
scum and not lie anymore to yourself about the beauty of it or anything. ha. i laugh in your face now, and i choke too. but it’s ok, we’re all choking on
something. be it matter or not it doesn’t matter.
Image Credit: scrapatorium.
