Ochre Scarab (We Wait)

How can you not see? That sometimes I have to. Do that thing. This thing. Check myself. Hold it back. Push it down. Only to pull it out, like teeth with bloody roots yielding to the pressure. No one is more disgusted by me than me. Of that I am sure. Contrition? You're my pet. Violation? Kisses and undying love. And you, Revisionism? Me rencontre dans ma boudoir; fuck slave anyone? The guns of your mind riddle me in a way that I can't help but worship, so hurry up and take my sieved self to the doctor, already. Everyone knows that unhealthy is so unattractive. Now you go'on and cry about that fact. Me? I'll be over here trying to be quiet.

I hate some members of my own family more than I could ever describe using words. Violently fucking volcanic. You have something missing in you. And nothing can take the place of it. Take these tears to your airless coffin.

Self, face the facts: you're in love.