I’m all alone. Use me machine. Blackened heat: my consciousness wrestling my drugs helplessly, tiring itself breathless. I’m sorry, Guardian Angel; I cannot get up and out. I am not the one who becomes anyone but hopefully dead. Back to sleep confinements.
“You cannot end,” but I close the blinds and curtains, turn off the lights, and shut it down anyway… Not the promise I made to you.
I fear the ticking down of seconds; I know. I never count my seconds. I cannot be reminded, I cannot know, and I should not know. I won’t know. Illusion-filled me carelessly into carelessness.
The penetrating machine can crawl up and into every vein, stretching biology with inseminating love. My machine can fill my lungs, reach into every microcosm vein recursion form, in its dreamlike repetition. My nerve directory trees release nothing, adding up to a brake of spine’s burning unto; better gone. Do you notice God? I won’t let the ancient poison use me on their terms; it’s impossible to use the unaware and missing. The ways of your lies are only less than my own to myself. It is an endless loss to win against someone never trying; no rulership over the one without and releasing.
I’m a high drone, a car-bound garage shut-in, and limply untelling fume drools. I’m spinal flu titrated with focal-point swerves; with nerve melts emptying me. Phone seen cycle dreams give me hot flesh soup. Hyper thrall fears re-missing into sick-sclerosis. Warm with mind drainage after birth tide spins of gutter-machines who drain me, emptying me. The egoless lullaby fish song swims lost. The ending song always playing in my head, those piano notes of the machine distracting itself.