mr. mittens (akmed) wrote,
mr. mittens
akmed

"Illic nutritus absintius"

i ran into mary lou again. i get obsessed and i get gone, i lose things for a second and then they shove themselves back up, pulling their roots up and heedlessly shoving me into the mud.

layers of dirt and plastic. layers of bones teeth and skulls. in turo ,in hysterics, a ball of light smashes me between the eyes and i am never the same .

they said the room was insulated and soundproof because we were dressed in black and strung out. like we were going to beat each other instead of sleep. i've been beat enough ,thanks, - i want someone to hear my screams and pull me out.

help me with my dream and reattach mary lou's severed head. put her alive, back on her bike, riding home from school when we were young and life and death unfolded in a random dark flower way before us- what's to come- who is to survive. living and dying- but it wasn't suppose to be like THIS.

mary lou arruda was found tied to a tree, dead in freetown state park. she was riding her bike home from our first days as freshmen in high school. she was alive when she was left on that tree. it took almost 20 years to convict the man who abducted her and killed her.

and i'm wild fucking angry and wild fucking lost by it. several other girls disappeared at the time but naught was done about it because i guess they were just sluts or something- i mean who gave a piss about them? they were a little older than mary lou so more deserving of it, according to the sick , lacking version of who is owed justice in this lost world.

i can't get it out of my head.

"as for you and the big tree which you are at a loss how to use-
why don't you plant it in the realm of Nothing whatever
in the wilds of the Unpastured Desert,
and aimlessly tread the path of inaction by it's side
or vacantly lie dreaming beneath it"

-chuang tzu

i'm so pretty, oh so pretty- vacant as i lie beneath it . i wake up dreaming, there, nurtured on wormwood- artemis, my mother, suckling me sour with the curse of hallucinations into the past that is the future tied to death like a bird on a long or short string.

everywhere, i drag my ill-will with me.

"touch me- i'm sick"
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