oh my

the phrase is sufficiently dizzy
we retreat to comfy caves
a nook with glowing eyes
“are you one of us?”

dance to kill the illusion
of dance
i must move
and jerk
to defy the strings
and give in

my mind broke into pieces
and i sold them at yard sales
to impressionable children
i knew not what i did

they came back, years later
wild looks
they had written books
they had been well received
within circles

i will love my past self
once i am reborn
for a while, at least

not the image, the style
we learned to play with what
the logician tried to save

an author once asked me
“why have you read this?”
to which I said
nothing

he wasn't actually there

i have been with so many chairs
never filled an empty room, though

i want to fuck you
with my impotence

blood covers my hands
because
i just killed a bitch