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You Are Making Me, Me
I desire nothing of life
Impetuously
I am incapable of more knowledge
So loath, yet I know
One thing above all else
I can soar: hurting
The floor was a new solid
And you built it, I watched
Though I wanted nothing
An escape from action
Teach me
Explain to me my brain
Why sleeping is hard
Eating, harder
Everything so silly, waste
Tongueless, dry
I slept and whimpered
Paranoid, everyone hates me
According to habit
But now, what you’ve done
Not yet alive, but moving more than ever
I didn’t know what to make
My hands were nimble, frictionless
Nothing, and nothing
Primitive, instinctual
Survive, breathe, survive
You possess this, and I do not
Nights no longer separate
Dark and light, dark and light
Milky gray perforates my cells with ice
And the pills no longer numb
They knock my blood
Like metal trash cans blowing down the street
But you, a child’s bray
Healthy in your form
Jubilant chaos, constructively organized
You’re filled with moons and tea
Smiles and books and words unsaid
Colors unseen and flowers unborn
Our radiations clash
Orbs flying all over, contradictions
I ask too many questions, and deny everything
I utter words to you
Ugly words, unused words
And you make them so, visually enticing
You hear them cold, raw
They’re okay
Normally lost and scratchy, you grasp them, accepted
The words seep into the hollowness, behind my eyes
Tell me I’m here
The white killed me in an hour
You, a child’s bray
You’re filled with moons and tea
And you are making me, me
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