you wake up this morning, i had been dreaming about getting my precious world stolen from me. you woke up this morning, you tell me you had a hard dick. you have been so horny the last few days. driving you crazy.
i tell you i'm not that turned on. you shut off, almost instantly. you don't think, 'i can turn her on' - do i even want you to think that? - no, you roll over. you defend.
and of course when i say that i have been trying to give you the leg-up into my brain that you need because we are so many leagues apart, and that you will reject that more often than not, you deny/dismiss. i wish i could make love to you. i want to. you say it's not fair. you'd be right.
it's an endless loop, babe. but the more you go around it the more mass it accumulates, and it has become so heavy that even the earth can't hold it up anymore. it slips straight through, into the pressure centre. so now every time we slam our bodies together it is out of desperation, not love. the centre's density rises. i contract. i don't know what it does to you. i don't know how you can listen or observe or be told and not be aware of its relation to who you are - instead look at me and ask why i am not aware. you say i don't understand. you'd be right.
none of us do. do not separate yourself, otherwise you will be separated. and you are. and you wonder why. when you say, I did. I am the one who(...). Out of everyone in the situation, I am the one -
who is blatantly unaware of himself as a human being?
but you will not hear this.
even if you did it would be rejected. not in on ear out the other - in the opening of the ear canal, hit a wall, ricochet, bounce.
but no, a small sliver of shrapnel slips past, and it is lodged in the back of your mind along with mountains of metal rusting away. what can i do with that? claw away, kick, even steel-caps only last so long. my hands will be well torn up by then. the toxin crawls up my spinal cord. my jaw will clench. i will spasm, and eventually be unable to move at all. twitching periodically. overtaken by brainrust.
we are hoarders. we keep. we collect. but i collect because i love, i treasure, or am inspired by. you collect because you cannot get rid of.
maybe i should have just shut up and fucked you.
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