chipped off the old block and hit a vein

new to me, used to

too

checkpoint in an abandoned game

assigned as lost

good news

 if you can call this metamorphasis

i can tell you it feels like becoming my own stomach, vomiting

all i feel is a lurch towards relief and comfort

rejecting but one thing at a time

juggling is not multitasking and i am not doing either

i will slouch as a man

 i thought i would build this castle out of pain and self-sacrifice 

but this is an endless stairwell of fear and greed

staircase wit

it has always been

i have always been

sitting on the steps of my conscious unwilling

waiting to yield

stalking my own programming, projections 

coward

 i am submitting to the past to placate this purgatory

there is no likeness between the things i have gained or lost

my character is a highway of comings and goings

i am a vessel but what am i

juice or jar brain soul

stop digging

if his or hers or yours ever echo in my head i will know but not until then

my thoughts are afraid of only each other like apex predators

i am not in control of this vessel at the moment

utterly unraveled by not one sentence but many

a roll of tape that has been torn apart

the most important things that were lost were the vignettes

this art is like life

so fragile that i am afraid of having it taken away from me

can i be at fault for forgetting

does the man of twine ever regain the things he has lost

 itty bitty gulag but make it alzheimers

brain got caught in tread, running, idling

i fall back onto spears i don't remember putting there

promethean ritual

everything came up bankrupt for a minute

bear

backing track like a steam engine

drake type harpy type exhausted type

little squished bug on windshield waking up with a hangover tag yourself

shame as a steam engine

guilt as breaks fucked up circle

i am in what feels like an advanced state of brain decay

where every day is a trial and i await the comfort of future reflection

to see if my struggle was honest

i don't think this is how i should feel

i can't read, can't focus, don't command the same vocabulary

every lesson i learn about myself is challenged

i am in therapy and learning to perform responses

to whatever fucked up shit i can't shake off next

i didn't want to write like this but i have no idea how else to reflect

//

every last ion is agitated

and i am not nobility

it is incredible seeing everything that i had wondered about tennis balls an volleyballs

at greater scale

the truth was always that they very rarely collide

i am back to square one

alchemy

This is the reverberation of a struck sword or the song of a struck dog

point of insecurity

melt down or break down

how

i am going to sit down and whittle myself a self

not to catch things but to coax things

vinegar

if this ringing can be reduced to a tone, i must try

we can be spiritual but we cannot be like this

it is against my code, i remember now

what's in a name