holy and wanting

skin will hang loose
when your heart beats too heavy
when your arms swing swing swing
for lack of control

i want to do nothing productive.
correction: i want to be amazingly productive without having to make any effort whatsoever.
my self-disciplinary skills seem to be waning while
my flesh is waxing. and it seems to melt sometimes.
addictions are dirty things, they inch into your pores and itch back out again, leaving you holy and
wanting to destroy
wanting to destroy

but i didn't think the mice could get up here
is it dried flowers scratching the door frame?
is it my throat delivering a sentimental growl, unnoticed

and the rust buckled my window
i place my head on it and it is warm
i find myself wanting the sympathy of the wrought iron
i bury my head in the glass, but it doesn't even crack.
fuck. all i wanted was some sort of comfort some sort of peelingpaintbluelitmetalcoldcomfort
but i suppose you have seen too much of that already, haven't you?
i suppose you recognized it the moment i threw the line,
the moment it broke the water's surface,
bait shuddering with a self-deprecating ripple.

i should teach myself to stop.

with each tongue that is placed in your mouth, my confidence shrinks.

i am almost cowering under the covers with each scritch at the closet door
i am tensing in frustration every time pressure is suggested.
i am mentally and violently retaliating at each sound
wanting to destroy
wanting to destroy
rust will crumble from my ears
let it
go with
it will be
fine let it

and it depresses me
it shits me
that nothing is making more sense
it frustrates me
that
in fact it is going in the opposite direction

i'm all over the place. my sense of judgement is out of town for a bit.
it may have skipped the country before it got charged for fleeing the scene of the crime
i swear the ceiling fan is tapping back at me.
i swear that one of these days i will so viciously bury my face into my guitar that my eyes will become fields of splinters
you and i can skip through them, hand in rustedironhand, me and you, the window and me.