August 28, 2013

I’m eating saltines because the mouth of my stomach
shows razor-sharp teeth when it doesn’t get what it wants
but I don’t think I want it to get what it wants anymore.

Fucking insecurities and then the drooling razor mouth
of my belly. This is what he wanted, the man who is taking
it away from me, the man who fed it to me. Even now my
control is a falsity and I know it, going through motions until
I decide to take a long break. He always watches me as I fall
through the rabbit hole.

These saltines taste like those crackers given out at church
except they are not blessed, they are foul, and the taste
reminds me of why I am eating them and I am just as ugly
as this goddamn saltine which holds no flavor and which my
tummy tells me is just another motion but sometimes all we have
are motions.

My hallucination usually leads me to a forest and then to Alice
and her magic pills and then darkness and always rather quickly.
I instantly regret confrontations with her because she tricks me
into thinking miracles can happen but miracles are just her magic
gypsy pills playing tricks on me and these saltines are fucking gross.

I will be the rat. I will go through the motions and I will be the rat.
I will find myself in an animal-testing lab.
They are testing new pills. I will drink the tube of water.
I will gladly spend my days running in circles.


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