Unidentifiable Human.

In my mind is a blue-print to you. Burned on the insides of my eyelids is a map to you. A poem I recite by heart, everyday, can lead me to you. When I sleep, my dreams fuckin' race to you. When I walk, step by step, I'm gettin' closer to you. The more I reach out for dear life, I know, my fingers' tips will touch you soon. But for some reason. They don't work. None of them. They're just basically lies. That blue-print? It's illegible. This map I see, every single time I fuckin' blink...it's fadin' and I can't read no street signs or recognize no symbols. This poem, it's just some filthy rap song you played over and over and is irreversibly stuck in my skull. My dreams, end in nightmarish terrors. I wake up feelin' suffocated and wishin' everytime I slept would be delightfully nostalgic. My walks, break into sudden sprints all the way home, in fear and terror of bein' followed by you. My fingertips' prints no longer exist, you burnt my identity clean off my used-to-be flawless skin.

And I want to be an individual again.

I WANT MY FUCKIN' LIFE BACK!

My tools and my heart

Both of which are broken. Banished to the deepest dungeons and depths of the world, and you could careless. You don't want to find me, I want you to care. You let her turn you like a key. Everything I do, you can hardly bear. All she does is take advantage, and you don't mind. I wish I could be like her. I would, for you, just give me some time.

So I start to get fuckin' nervous because I asked you out for drinks to talk and you agreed.

I'm smokin' a cigarette, stressin' because I don't know what we're supposed to talk about.

My throat's dry and I down a pill and chase it with vodka. Yeah we could start off with her.

But you'd get offended and leave. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. So Fucked Up!

Fine, I'll keep it casual. But You told me I should try...try?

What the fuck does that mean!

So I fuck it and get ready. Puttin' on my black torn-up jeans, silver stilettos, and grey off-shoulder tee, I grab my purse. Mantras aren't goin' to enlighten my mood but I'm hopin' I can muster some courage when you pick me up.

We're at the bar and it's goin' well. You're nuzzlin' my neck with miniature kisses, and words are pourin' easily out of my mouth. You nod in agreement as I talk, but you continue on touchin'. Whisperin', "let's go off somewhere." I guzzle my martini and pay the bill. While we're walkin' out, you can't stop touchin' me. Your fingers' tips leavin' prints everywhere. We hardly make it out of the door before you pull me into an empty booth and you start to kiss me...you kiss me like she never existed. You kiss me like I've never felt you kiss me before. It feels like a medley of simple gropin' explosions as you're on top of me and your mouth is movin' so keenly, and soft. Then you stop abruptly, because you're phone goes off.

And you fuckin' ditch me for her while we're on a date.

Yeah, you left me there in that booth alone. "Mhm, I have to go."

What?

"That was her, she needs me. It was nice seeing you again, bye."

Like we never did anything...but talk, and catch up on things.

So I walk down to the subway.

But miss my subway and wander off, down the tracks and hop into an electrical duct. I have a headache.

I take out my bottle of aspirin and Tequila.

I count out 5 pills and stick them on my tongue. They taste like shit dissolving so I swallow them with Tequila. Then I start a never ending circle, 5 pills, and a chaser of Tequila. 5 more pills, and a chaser of Tequila...etc.

I knock out when I finish my bottle of aspirin. The drugs are kickin' in. I fall unconscious in an electrical duct, a subway passes by. and another, and another. and this will keep happenin' until maintenance comes down and finds me, finds my body, finds me dead.

Hi Christina, I miss you.

Because when I see you. I want to Choke you. The Need to Hold you just goes away. and I desecrate your belongings because you're half a nation away and I'm licking my fingers at the end of destruction. I burn your shit, and I send the ashes packing. I fold your memories and stuff them in a box and send them into the ocean. to sink and drown. but then when I see the chocolate you're hiding I eat it. because it tastes so damn good. I call the lifeguards, the marine, the water patrol, and the bay police to launch submarines to the bottom of the ocean to get these memories back. and I turn back all the clocks in the world to un-burn your stuff. and I take it to you and leave it on your door steps. I open the box of memories and they slip into my head. I smile. and I'm on a sugar high. and I owe all this money to ocean-services, just because you left me chocolate. which you didn't. but fuck am I craving chocolate right now. Hi Christina, I miss you(:

hehe.

But. . .

I just want to make you SO HAPPY. I want to be the perfect compliment to you. But sometimes when you ask for the perfect me I was before. I just can't find her. I've been lookin'. Behind every door, in every dusty corner. Under your thick mattress. In every word I used to write. Deep within the spines of my used-to-be favorite books. There's hints everywhere about her habits and obsessions. But no hint big enough to fully saturate myself in who I used to be. And I know I promise you everyday I'll find her. But after searchin' this much. She's not in the places I remember setting her. She's not in the spaces where I remember her clinging to. She's not boxed up. And I think, just maybe. I accidentally set her free. And if I did... I know where she is. And she's not here anymore. She's fuckin' light-years away. And I know I should've chained her down. But you can't say no to a face like that.

Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere.

Head in the clouds. I'm walking on atmosphere. The sun shines up from the floor. and I feel a little light headed. Sometimes when I look up, I see the ocean and ground. But that's too far up, and I don't want to set foot on soil, till night. My hair falls up as I look down and inspect the sunshine. There's tiny flecks of moisture that I wipe away. It's so bright that I pull the clouds over me as a hood. I'm surrounded in fluffy moisture. But it's a little too wet. I wring out the water and keep treading on atmosphere. I come to the edge of clouds, where the ground drops up, and sky meets horizon. I slowly climb down.

Gravity turns me upside down. I jump down from the last step of horizon, and touch the lush green grass. The meadow smells like wheat. And my feet get wet. When I look up, the clouds slowly drift up. My hood dissipates. And I'm human once more. I sleep at the edge of the lavender farm as the sun waves goodnight and dunks into the Western horizon.

When I wake up. The sun smiles down at me and emerges from the Eastern horizon. It's time to go home. So I climb up the horizontal stairs.

Gravity looses cling. My hair tickles off my shoulders and I celestially turn upright. I lean back onto the atmosphere and pick at the clouds. Whooshing them around, conjuring up cirro-stratus and cumulo-nimbus clouds in different regions. There's your weather, world. But when I look up, past my fluffed-up moisture, at the awakening night. I see your face. all sun-kissed and earthen. And I wish you were just like me. Because I'm walking on sunshine. And I wish you were too.

I begin with the psycho-realm.

Sometimes when I eat, I can't swallow because I'm thinking of you. That time you put your hands around my neck and asked me if I could breathe. The tension between us vibrated and rode in loops like a roller-coaster in the air as you spoke. I nodded. And that exact moment you swallowed, your hands gripped tighter - squeezing the breath from me. My heart pounded ten times faster than it should, it's cadence off beat and panicky. It thrummed like a broken clock. My face got hot. My body screamed, "PULL THE FUCK AWAY!" But I stayed. I wanted to stay. Even though I might've died right there, I had you. I was held in your muscular hands. Your eyes flared at me in excitement. And I was HAPPY. But then I lost you, right when I coughed. My body gave-way and I collapsed. You walked out of my life. And I walked straight into a psycho-realm.

Listening: All These Things That I've Done - The Killers