X

Ex: preposition (from latin) out of, from.

“I want you to notice,
when I’m not around,
but you never did or will.”
Fell and Crashed into the myriad, labyrinth, matrix
of fantasies, idealizations, dreams, thoughts about you.

“Here it is,” and she presents it, cold and self-conscious, naked in front of an inattentive audience who all recognize her:

I.
My lips wrapped around
your cock,
fingers graze your
buzz cut,
and then the volcano erupting
salty, slimy swamp water.

II.
Found and am Following this treasure map,
to find where (“X” marks spot) I went wrong,
why I won’t ever be good enough.
I keep Following it because I AM STUBBORN,
can’t give up trying like you did.

III.
Something inside compels me to live, eat, breathe, and want you;
an Invisible Force heats the water that turns to water vapor
that moves a turbine causing mouth to incessantly chatter about
some reason to live
someone to grieve.

IIII.
My heart pounding opens my lungs,
the anger smashes open an adrenaline treasure chest.

I might never give up.

If I let go of these bricks of gold on my ankles,
I’ll be floating in space,
where the tedium of freedom rapes me of my
fear of a hungry shark (he then eats me, I die).
Nothing to solve.
Nothing to lose.
Nothing at all.
My body keeps me weighed down,
(Can’t disregard my heart remembering and my cunt craving)
to Earth and also brings
PROBLEMS.
PLEASURE.
EXCITEMENT FOR THE IMPOSSIBLE ENDEAVOR.

V-IX.

Some faceless ghost unwarrantedly replies,
and whether truth or fallacy you can judge with your own eyes:

X.
Don’t you get it yet, Jess?
If he acknowledged your existence in any way
it would cut you off from the
IMPOSSIBILITY OF THE ENDEAVOR,
the impossible would transform to potential,
everything would SHUT UP and slow down,
with possibility to move, but no movement
until something else made it move,
like trying to watch a flower grow.

Be patient.
Let it be.

12 November 2009