Saturday, 14 December 2013

your name

I have become so irascible. I am the one who cries out with such pity and helplessness. I have enough blood on my hands for evidence. A mouth of emptiness, and teeth like knives. But do not touch the evidence, because blood is dangerous! Yet, it is inside of all bodies.

I do not want to say your name anymore because I am so ... put under. And that is not because of drugs, for I am sober. I do not deserve to say your name. Do not let me say your name. Please, do not let me say your name.

And now, I am building towers to heaven and watching the walls crumble. I remember when I used to not care about building the towers, and my hands seemingly built them anyway. I build without acknowledging and I acknowledge without building. Some say that works will lead you to the heavens. Others say that works will not lead you to the heavens.

How can I eventually spend an eternity with you, when I cannot spend a day with you now?

God, I do not think that I love you.

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