by your pity i disgust you. your eyes hang low in shame. and i can't tame the savage circles tossed about the ancient countenances that blame. your eyes debase me and my words in turn debase you. remember a day while we were waiting for the worms like strange attractors encircling a reflection.
i started smoking poetry. anything i could get my hands on. anything to shut my brain up. a tiny book of butterflies. unsettling. like satre's nausea. i am an ontology of food and vomit. a sepia of terms i cannot come to terms with.
mother, your vision rots me, neither love nor hate. but mere control. they think i'm a transvestite, a man trapped inside a woman's body. i don't need a sex change. i need to cut your chord.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ENMnG2BaTA
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