Tears
Falling from a putrescent womb into a less than pristine subsistence, scraping it's fingers across the glass into a living room never invited, peering into a million thanksgivings and knowing that one was never meant for such.
Keep them, suffer them all into the dust, spit that mediocrity out like the dog semen it is. Bury the effigy under credit cards, burn it into the mind's eye, that is what is good and one is not.
So I am interred into the cold ground of dismissal, sent away into banishment, into the exile of the dead, of not measuring up to some lofty idealistic goal of supposed self becoming, that one could never hope to be a thing deemed to be worth the merit, to be held at eye level and seen for itself.
So one can look down, down, down on all things in creation, seen for weakness, seen for ineffectiveness, seen for uselessness, seen for mindlessness.
Seen through like a flimsy veil, looked into the rotten core within and one had no choice but to laugh. To belly laugh like a lunatic. In all honesty one was most beautiful when it was ugly to eyes, it sounds the sweetest when it burns in silence refusing to leak out venom as it was ostracized. The good doktor forgot how to make itself in it's image of proper self loathing, the monster had to piece itself together. The phoenix never rose from the ash and Narcissus's reflection never climbed out of it's world. Fall backwards and not looking into the dirty word, not seeking the refuse altar to lay myself to appease the manufactured fear clones. Hypostasis is best done when semi-conscious of the conditions imposed and the lies are eaten with a grain of salt.
Keep them, suffer them all into the dust, spit that mediocrity out like the dog semen it is. Bury the effigy under credit cards, burn it into the mind's eye, that is what is good and one is not.
So I am interred into the cold ground of dismissal, sent away into banishment, into the exile of the dead, of not measuring up to some lofty idealistic goal of supposed self becoming, that one could never hope to be a thing deemed to be worth the merit, to be held at eye level and seen for itself.
So one can look down, down, down on all things in creation, seen for weakness, seen for ineffectiveness, seen for uselessness, seen for mindlessness.
Seen through like a flimsy veil, looked into the rotten core within and one had no choice but to laugh. To belly laugh like a lunatic. In all honesty one was most beautiful when it was ugly to eyes, it sounds the sweetest when it burns in silence refusing to leak out venom as it was ostracized. The good doktor forgot how to make itself in it's image of proper self loathing, the monster had to piece itself together. The phoenix never rose from the ash and Narcissus's reflection never climbed out of it's world. Fall backwards and not looking into the dirty word, not seeking the refuse altar to lay myself to appease the manufactured fear clones. Hypostasis is best done when semi-conscious of the conditions imposed and the lies are eaten with a grain of salt.