Tuesday, February 22, 2005

in the moments i indulge the morbidity i always
carry, i always wonder: who
will come flying if i were dying? or ill, if i were
seriously ill, would that make anyone seriously rethink
their lives, and why should illness or death make us do that,
why can't we be smart enough asitis, and who will
leave flowers at my pink marble marker, or talk into
the air and hope i can hear it? there is never
plenty of time, i don't think there is, time is always watching
and waiting for you to stumble so it can
trample you. i wish i could trust more, wish that i could not be
so
garbled
and
taffystuck
that i could just once and for all jump happily and completely and not
panic and just for once
believe what i am told and
say shut up you paranoid fool to
the nagging peripheral clouds that mock me and say
'it's happened so many times, it could very well
happen again you better run before
you turn into her'
cusp, teetering on a cusp, 'tis is a mighty
uncomfortable
place for a person such as i, a rubberball person like me
bouncing crazily, mazily all over, blurred and flailing, spinning off the glass, always in

flight

when all i really truly want to do is
dig a hole to China and

be friends with a dragon, at least i'd have a neat charred
scar to show for all my singeing, look,
i've got battle scars, y'see, i have proof
i'm such a warrior

pah, let's just be pansies, sweetly pinkandyellow

Mina at 1:01 PM

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