X post. be forewarned.
i feel as though i've lived a thousand lives in a span of years; a million experiences, impossibly related, swim through my head like sperm towards some egg of overwhelming meaning, a possibility to become more, to grow and change and adapt.
the name michael tastes funny on my tongue; it doesn't taste the same way they used to. the syllables don't fit inside my mouth anymore; it's like trying to cough up marbles or pebbles or teeth. it doesn't sound right, it doesn't sound like a name people should have--it's almost as strange sounding to me as "la'shaun'da'ni'fua" or the like. but no other name fits as comfortably, no other name tastes the way that 'michael' did; nothing else rolls off the tongue like cool water or hot breath. but neither does 'michael' anymore. dana, james, chris, david, marc... nothing fits. they're all like dresses made for someone else, and i'm slouching around wearing them and discarding them so easily like the sweat that inevitably rolls off our backs.
my mouth is full of uncomfortable, like waking up sweaty and sore and sickly; i can't get this dryness, this discomfort, this utter misfitting of words out of my mouth, no matter how hard i try. the word's gone, the memories are gone, but the feeling isn't, and never will be. now, it just has no destination. it has no ultimate source. it has no one to be directed to for further assistance. i'm just sitting here, waiting to love someone and be loved in return. at this point, it almost doesn't matter who. i just want somebody who loves me.
the name michael tastes funny on my tongue; it doesn't taste the same way they used to. the syllables don't fit inside my mouth anymore; it's like trying to cough up marbles or pebbles or teeth. it doesn't sound right, it doesn't sound like a name people should have--it's almost as strange sounding to me as "la'shaun'da'ni'fua" or the like. but no other name fits as comfortably, no other name tastes the way that 'michael' did; nothing else rolls off the tongue like cool water or hot breath. but neither does 'michael' anymore. dana, james, chris, david, marc... nothing fits. they're all like dresses made for someone else, and i'm slouching around wearing them and discarding them so easily like the sweat that inevitably rolls off our backs.
my mouth is full of uncomfortable, like waking up sweaty and sore and sickly; i can't get this dryness, this discomfort, this utter misfitting of words out of my mouth, no matter how hard i try. the word's gone, the memories are gone, but the feeling isn't, and never will be. now, it just has no destination. it has no ultimate source. it has no one to be directed to for further assistance. i'm just sitting here, waiting to love someone and be loved in return. at this point, it almost doesn't matter who. i just want somebody who loves me.