I AM STILL ON FIRE, YOU CAN’T DO AWAY WITH ME JUST YET
I AM STILL ON FIRE, YOU CAN’T DO AWAY WITH ME JUST YET
I WOKE UP THIS MORNING IN FLAMES. I HAVE TRIED TO FIT, I HAVE TRIED TO CRAM MYSELF DOWN INTO A NUGGET FOR YOU TO DIP INTO YOUR SOULLESSNESS AND EAT. I HAVE TRIED! I HAVE GIVEN IT A GOOD FUCKING GO. BUT I WILL SAY NOW. NOW THAT I HAVE BEEN ALMOST EATEN — THAT THIS KIND OF LIVING IS NOT FOR ME. WHAT YOU CALL LIFE IS NOT FOR ME. I DO NOT ADHERE TO IT. IT IS NOT DESIGNED FOR ME. I DO NOT COSIGN IT. I DO NOT SPLIT MYSELF IN HALF IN ORDER TO LIVE. I WILL NOT PARTICIPATE IN THE QUIET MADNESS YOU HAVE CALLED LIVING. THEY TELL ME I AM THE INSANE ONE BUT I BELIEVE MYSELF TO BE THE ONE WITH UTMOST SANITY. WE LIVE IN AN ILLOGICAL UNIVERSE. THERE IS NO REASON AS TO WHY WE ARE HERE. THERE IS POETRY SIMPLY IN THE WAY WE HAVE COME TO BE LIVING. YET YOU ERASE THIS POETRY. YOU SCRUB IT CLEAN AND YOU REMOVE ALL HOPE OF ITS BLOSSOMING. YOU TAKE IT, RINSE IT WITH COLD TAP WATER, AND REMOVE IT ALL UNTIL IT IS DEAD. AND YOU PUT THE REMAINS TO THE SIDE. YOU ARE HOPING TO DO THE SAME WITH ME. HOPING TO SCRUB ME CLEAN UNTIL I AM DEAD. UNTIL I AM A BODY THAT IS NOT RENDERING. UNTIL I AM A BODY THAT HAS BEEN TAUGHT TO BE DEAD.
IT IS TOO LATE. I HAVE ALREADY REACHED THE BRINK OF MY LIVING AND IT HAS ENTERED MY SKIN IN A WAY THAT IS UNREACHABLE, UNTREATABLE WITH YOUR PRESCRIPTIONS. MY LIFE CANNOT BE SCRUBBED AWAY WITH A HIGH INTENSITY DISH SOAP AND WIRE SPONGE. TRY ALL YOU CAN BUT YOU CAN’T WIN. IT IS TOO DEEP WITHIN ME TO BE DONE AWAY WITH. I HAVE STUDIED MYSELF TOO MUCH. I HAVE SPENT ENOUGH TIME GATHERING WHAT IT IS THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO KNOW AND I CAN’T KEEP QUIET ANY LONGER. EVERY NOW AND THEN I WILL FORGET AND IT WILL TAKE A VOLCANIC REACTION FOR ME TO UNEARTH IT AND KEEP IT GOING. BUT DO NOT TELL ME YOU SEE THE POETRY AND THEN DO NOTHING ABOUT IT. DO NOT TELL ME YOU SEE THE POETRY AND THEN DO NOTHING ABOUT IT. DO NOT TELL ME YOU SEE THE POETRY AND THEN DO NOTHING ABOUT IT. LET ME TELL MY FUCKING SELF. SEE THE POETRY AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. SEE THE POETRY AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. SAVE SOMEONE MORE THAN JUST YOURSELF. SAVE MORE THAN JUST YOURSELF. THESE PEOPLE ARE ASKING TO BE SAVED. SAVE THEM.
IT IS TOO PAINFUL AND RESTRICTING TO NOT TYPE IN ALL CAPS. THERE IS A MESSAGE THAT IS NECESSARY AND IS COMING THROUGH AND IT HAS TO BE COMMUNICATED IN THIS WAY. I AM NOT A PARTICIPANT IN THIS WORLD THAT IS DESIGNED TO BE EATEN. I AM NOT FOR THE CONSUMPTION OF MY DRY GOODS. I AM NOT SOMEONE WHO IS HERE TO BE ERASED. THE LINES OF MYSELF HAVE BEEN FOLLOWED AND DISCOVERED. MY PLACEMENT IN THIS WORLD HAS AN OUTLINE THAT IS TOO THICK. I AM HERE TO BE SOMEONE WHO IS LOVED AND ADORED AND NOURISHED AND PUSHED AND LOVED AND PULLED INTO OBLIVION. FUCK THE IDEA THAT I HAVE TO STRIP MYSELF OF WHAT I LOVE TO SUCCEED WHERE HEARTS ARE GREY AND BROKEN. DUSTED AND THROWN TO THE WAYSIDE.
I SEE THE LIGHTS LEAVE YOUR EYES EVERY TIME YOU TELL ME WHAT IT IS YOU HAVE TO DO. WHAT YOU DO EVERY DAY TO SURVIVE. AND I WORRY THAT THE LIGHT WILL BEGIN TO LEAVE MINE. YES, WHO AM I TO KEEP THE LIGHT IN MY EYES? WHO AM I? BUT I’
M TELLING YOU. I HAVE FELT EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME LIGHT UP TO A DEGREE THAT FEELS LIKE THE ENTIRETY OF THE WORLD IS ON FIRE. THAT THE WORLD MEANS SOMETHING AND SPINS BECAUSE OF IT. THAT IT ONLY SPINS BECAUSE OF THAT MEANING. NOT BECAUSE OF THE ERADICATION OF SOMEONE’S PURE WILL. I WILL NOT STRIP AWAY THIS MEANING.
DON’T GIVE UP ON ME JUST QUITE YET. I AM FINDING A WAY THROUGH. I WILL NOT RESIGN TO AN EASY WAY OUT. AND I KNOW YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN ME AND YOU DON’T THINK IT COULD WORK BUT I WANT TO BELIEVE IN THE UNSEEN. THE WICKED PULL OF FORGOTTEN SENSES REMEMBERED AND USED. THE LIGHT IS STILL BEHIND MY EYES. THE LIGHT IS STILL PULLING THROUGH. THE LIGHT IS STILL WAITING TO BE USED.
I PROMISE I WILL USE IT.
Keep writing, Wonderful works