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AJ Aug 2013
There's more than one way to turn two bodies
Into one.
Instead,
**** my soul till it's raw.
Fill me to the brim with your broken ego.
I'll dance my catastrophic tongue along your weak spot,
Your achilles heel.
Which, of course,
Is me breaking your ego.
I'll let you penetrate me with a silent stare,
Oh god,
Yes there.
Dive into my insecurities,
Call my bluff,
Put me on a pedestal,
Rigged to collapse into ruins.
I like when you push me.
Don't break me,
Ecstasy comes when I break myself,
Smash myself into over analyzed bits and sociopathic pieces.
Faster.
Harder.
Make it harder for me to figure you out,
Give me a challenge.
**** yes,
I love a challenge.
Reading an open book is easy,
Picking up a locked journel off an abandoned bookshelf,
Now that pushes me over the edge.
Let's change into a more comfortable position,
Where you ramble an incoherent childhood stories,
And I retort loudly in my native language,
And you storm off because no one is right,
And no one is wrong.
And you get off on the point that there is no point.
Just build it up.
More.
****.
****.
More.
Touch my mind.
Don't touch my heart,
No stop.
Yes there.
A little more.



Dzięki.
AJ Aug 2013
Make it stop.
I wanna sleep.
AJ Aug 2013
It's three am
I hear him whisper
"Mommy, I'm scared."
Now 40% of my bed is taken up by a snoring ghost baby.
Goodnight Collin.
Other stories about Collin can be found in the collection "Son", which you can find if you look in the notes down below.
AJ Aug 2013
I don't even think there was a trigger this time.
I think it just became a very big relapse
Very very quickly.
Or it is just a big delayed reaction of
Of a certain act of
Valor.
Now I cry through the bulimic tag every night
Like the stupidest ***** this side of the city.
And I fix my breathing with my beautiful ******* razors,
Inside my friend's bathrooms.
I'd rather feel empty,
You have to spend less money on alcohol that way.
A certain act of valor.
Not that I can blame the poor baby,
It was my own fault.
Masochistic you could say.
I don't want to die,
I just want to stop suffering.
Actually,
I just want to suffer.
Actually,
I just want to suffer until I make everything perfect.
Until I'm someone's prize possession.
Suka.
AJ Aug 2013
Sometimes you're a drunken little brat.
Have fun with that.
Insult me all you want.
I'm the dealer,
You can't beat the house.
The house always wins.
AJ Aug 2013
I will not write happier poems because you enjoy them more.
If I force it I will hate it.
And if I hate what I write I will start to cry.
And we all know how messy that can be.
We all know how you hate that.
You have three emotions,
Witnessing any more than that makes you ill.
Completely
Socially
Ill.
AJ Aug 2013
The kind of treatment I need can no longer come from a bottle.
I need to wander around the city late at night.
I need to spend all day drinking coffee and looking around a second hand book store.
I need to exchange life stories with a stranger, and then never see them again.
I need some space for the time in my head to justify itself.
I need to tour an art museum.
I need to go to the beach and sit in one spot all day.
I need to go 24 hours without any form of human contact.
I need to sing, and cry, and scream loudly in my car, speeding down the highway.
I need to go to the movie theater for a triple feature all by myself.
And lastly I need to get a big bottle of gin,
And a bigger bottle of pills,
And have a nice big meal with the two,
And take a nice long nap.
Because the kind of treatment I need,
DOESN'T EVEN ******* EXIST.
Sorry about that.
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