here is what i think we need to realize;
it isn't about ANYTHING
everything you see, what is it doing there?
did you put it there? did they? did he?
did you want to? did you want them to?
it isn't about the pretty colors, the texture, the softness, the lightness, or how big it is or how fat you are or even how crazy, right?
just keep your eyes closed, your mouth shut, curl up in a ball, go to sleep.
will you wake up when i call your name? is it too late for anything, for everything?
i told you i was bored and you told me to entertain myself so i'm drawing on your face with my eyeliner while you sleep. you'll tell your friends i was the craziest girl you ever slept with but that doesn't mean you didn't like it, wouldn't do it again, that you didn't do it again, because you did.
you told me the humans were becoming machines and you seemed excited about this but i was terrified. no, i wouldn't believe it, couldn't believe it and i got mad but then you held me with your huge arms and i was so small and the textures, lightness, softness, hardness, smoothness, i felt with my small hands and we were sculptures, not machines and not humans either for a moment until you moved me on top of you and looked me in the face for so long and didn't say a word.
you never said a word and that said it all,
that this was not about anything at all and you had no idea how i got there either.