Sins of the Psyche.
This isn't really really excellent, but I'm staying in practice.
Gluttonous Mania
I live for these moments of pure electricity and velocity. I can suck more and more glee in my nostrils and my lungs and my veins. You make me fly. Everything is 3-D. I want to clean and fuck and breathe and breathe, but my lungs feel like rocks in my chest. I'm ok. I'm ok. I don't remember how I got onto the floor but it's too much. My consciousness fills with helium and I'm mobile. This is it.
Slothbound Dysthymia
The air is thick and red like her hair. The room is warm like her skin. And the molecules are slow like my ache. I can feel the knot in my stomach and the shame in my chest and the narcotic burn in my skull. This is a photograph of me without you. This is the alpha. I'm the omega. You're the id. I am gone.
Greedy Histrionia
Surrounding myself with your compliments and things and glances reassures me. I'm not totally broken. If I can't value my own love, I can scoop up fistfuls of yours. I can ignore you when it suits me and the affection flops off of me like mucus, but I can always come back to hold you down and suck more from the delicate column of your throat. And you let me. Just to feel my mouth on you again.
Prideful Nervosa
I am the sky. I am the sun. And it's in my control. I can pinch and squeeze my flesh until the surface is red and violet. I can run from my problems in a sports bra with Top 40 in my ear. I'm thinner than you. I'm better than you. And I can even pretend to love me. Beneath a smear of stars, the moon in my eyes is the only thing I don't manipulate.
Lustful Conversion
Specific numbness invades my chest in times like this. I'm all tangled limbs and gutteral sound and slipping and sliding. My heart is forgotten and my soul is cast aside. It feels like heaven in the most primal way and it's better than being alone. Anything is better than being empty and alone.
Envious Agoraphobia
I'll sleep with my forehead warming the glass. I watch you mow your lawn and drive your kids to school and kiss your wife. I remember when you looked at me in similar fashion. My life is a series of microfiche slides without you. Each one is slightly less plausible in it's age than the former. Fill in the blanks. My body is this house now and it's smudged glass windows are my eyes. But my heart will always live inside your endearing smiles and careful waves.
Wrathful Fugue
I stare into your eyes and count the pretexts there. The calumny and falsehood radiating from you like breath makes the back of my eyeballs burn. Seething rage lights my bones aflame. Magnificent spectral arms remind me of slate as they burst like light from my chest and plunge into my eyes. I'm a great arc of light until they've wiped clean my cognizance. In that moment, you're a stranger. I'll forget everything about you. Fuck you.
Gluttonous Mania
I live for these moments of pure electricity and velocity. I can suck more and more glee in my nostrils and my lungs and my veins. You make me fly. Everything is 3-D. I want to clean and fuck and breathe and breathe, but my lungs feel like rocks in my chest. I'm ok. I'm ok. I don't remember how I got onto the floor but it's too much. My consciousness fills with helium and I'm mobile. This is it.
Slothbound Dysthymia
The air is thick and red like her hair. The room is warm like her skin. And the molecules are slow like my ache. I can feel the knot in my stomach and the shame in my chest and the narcotic burn in my skull. This is a photograph of me without you. This is the alpha. I'm the omega. You're the id. I am gone.
Greedy Histrionia
Surrounding myself with your compliments and things and glances reassures me. I'm not totally broken. If I can't value my own love, I can scoop up fistfuls of yours. I can ignore you when it suits me and the affection flops off of me like mucus, but I can always come back to hold you down and suck more from the delicate column of your throat. And you let me. Just to feel my mouth on you again.
Prideful Nervosa
I am the sky. I am the sun. And it's in my control. I can pinch and squeeze my flesh until the surface is red and violet. I can run from my problems in a sports bra with Top 40 in my ear. I'm thinner than you. I'm better than you. And I can even pretend to love me. Beneath a smear of stars, the moon in my eyes is the only thing I don't manipulate.
Lustful Conversion
Specific numbness invades my chest in times like this. I'm all tangled limbs and gutteral sound and slipping and sliding. My heart is forgotten and my soul is cast aside. It feels like heaven in the most primal way and it's better than being alone. Anything is better than being empty and alone.
Envious Agoraphobia
I'll sleep with my forehead warming the glass. I watch you mow your lawn and drive your kids to school and kiss your wife. I remember when you looked at me in similar fashion. My life is a series of microfiche slides without you. Each one is slightly less plausible in it's age than the former. Fill in the blanks. My body is this house now and it's smudged glass windows are my eyes. But my heart will always live inside your endearing smiles and careful waves.
Wrathful Fugue
I stare into your eyes and count the pretexts there. The calumny and falsehood radiating from you like breath makes the back of my eyeballs burn. Seething rage lights my bones aflame. Magnificent spectral arms remind me of slate as they burst like light from my chest and plunge into my eyes. I'm a great arc of light until they've wiped clean my cognizance. In that moment, you're a stranger. I'll forget everything about you. Fuck you.