he's in the other room
and my eyes are closed
even though they should be looking ahead of me
my closest friend is 500 miles away
and i feel like the lack of estrogen coded to my own
is making me miserable.
though, to be fair, miserable is not the word.
i don't know that a definition exists
to explain the lack
of lack.
i don't have anything to want
but i want it anyway.
it was only two months
(was it that? did it truly happen or was yesterday someone else's past?)
i feel like i need to cover my tracks
but if feel like doing so would camouflage who i am
i am weak
and not because i am a woman;
i am weak because i breathe
and i must rely on inorganic molecules to survive.
how strange that the organisms that rule everything
are so ruled by everything.
God only knows that i am devoid of purpose
or do not admit to knowing it.
if i had your contact information
i would contact you
and then be upset at your lack of response
you don't give a shit
(and why would you? i have not proven myself to be more than useless and faithless and unloyal even if nothing has really happened other than a little groping because sometimes that's what it takes to find your footing when you're climbing a cliff -- a natural cliff, mind you, with no neon-color-outlined grips. why haven't i gone to Atlanta Rocks! yet because that would be a great workout? and why hasn't my husband come to see what's going on here? do you figure he thinks I'm asleep or has he drank more than I (just a single tall can of 12% alcohol). is it ok to use parentheses inside of parentheses?)
and i can't get that through my brain.
why am i still typing?
i need to go to sleep or do something productive
like fucking him until i can't think of anything else?
it is bad that i'm using orgasm to tune out the truth?
is it truth for the long-term or just what i want to see for the moment?
i can't be sure.
does my libido exceed my wisdom?
i am often distracted by sex and stimulus.
does the effect of the cause justify the motivation of the motion?
how many times have i posed the question?
is there any point
or it is only echoes?
the plurization of english words is confusing sometimes.
who are you?
where are you?
i see you skulking around online every so often?
or are you skulking in troth?
i doubt my thoughts align with reality,.
you're on another stepstone miles away.
meanwhile, i only hope to hop closer
and you're gaining some solidity to your existence
at the same time that mine crumbles to dust.
and he doesn't know.
i don't even know if i'm not uninhibited.
this alcohol opens my eyes at the same time it opens my tear ducts
truth be told, i don't cry often
and when i do it's for stupid reasons like movie reels
but when i do cry, it's cathartic.
perhaps i need to cry and in so doing, release you.
you need to be free
and even if you're not cognizant of it,
i am holding you here.
my desires have chained you to this existence.
can we ever be free of ourselves?
and my eyes are closed
even though they should be looking ahead of me
my closest friend is 500 miles away
and i feel like the lack of estrogen coded to my own
is making me miserable.
though, to be fair, miserable is not the word.
i don't know that a definition exists
to explain the lack
of lack.
i don't have anything to want
but i want it anyway.
it was only two months
(was it that? did it truly happen or was yesterday someone else's past?)
i feel like i need to cover my tracks
but if feel like doing so would camouflage who i am
i am weak
and not because i am a woman;
i am weak because i breathe
and i must rely on inorganic molecules to survive.
how strange that the organisms that rule everything
are so ruled by everything.
God only knows that i am devoid of purpose
or do not admit to knowing it.
if i had your contact information
i would contact you
and then be upset at your lack of response
you don't give a shit
(and why would you? i have not proven myself to be more than useless and faithless and unloyal even if nothing has really happened other than a little groping because sometimes that's what it takes to find your footing when you're climbing a cliff -- a natural cliff, mind you, with no neon-color-outlined grips. why haven't i gone to Atlanta Rocks! yet because that would be a great workout? and why hasn't my husband come to see what's going on here? do you figure he thinks I'm asleep or has he drank more than I (just a single tall can of 12% alcohol). is it ok to use parentheses inside of parentheses?)
and i can't get that through my brain.
why am i still typing?
i need to go to sleep or do something productive
like fucking him until i can't think of anything else?
it is bad that i'm using orgasm to tune out the truth?
is it truth for the long-term or just what i want to see for the moment?
i can't be sure.
does my libido exceed my wisdom?
i am often distracted by sex and stimulus.
does the effect of the cause justify the motivation of the motion?
how many times have i posed the question?
is there any point
or it is only echoes?
the plurization of english words is confusing sometimes.
who are you?
where are you?
i see you skulking around online every so often?
or are you skulking in troth?
i doubt my thoughts align with reality,.
you're on another stepstone miles away.
meanwhile, i only hope to hop closer
and you're gaining some solidity to your existence
at the same time that mine crumbles to dust.
and he doesn't know.
i don't even know if i'm not uninhibited.
this alcohol opens my eyes at the same time it opens my tear ducts
truth be told, i don't cry often
and when i do it's for stupid reasons like movie reels
but when i do cry, it's cathartic.
perhaps i need to cry and in so doing, release you.
you need to be free
and even if you're not cognizant of it,
i am holding you here.
my desires have chained you to this existence.
can we ever be free of ourselves?
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