December 31, 11:23 PM
and so I'm drunk.
I started by guzzling what was left of the 151-
prancing around in my underwear-
the perverted child instinct exposed.
sheer black stockings, lace around the white of each thigh, straps and buckles and elastic and the slither of silk around the soft flesh of my belly-
I nibble on Corina's arm and she puts the camera down and kisses me-
I push her up against the wall-
I'm wet but my mind is detached-
I'm wet and completely unconcerned.
Corina leaves and I stay because I don't want to go where she is going-
because I am still coughing up blood-
the alcohol has paralyzed the gag reflex but tomorrow morning i will hack up crimson ribbons-
the fever breaks only so that it may descend again-
always this promise, this non-reality.
The walls are closing in and i stumble out of the apartment and take myself for a walk.
my phone keeps ringing-
the street is dark and i walk without thinking because i am blissfully light-
I have lost all of my gravity and the earth's mass no longer affects me-
I pick up my phone this time and its Kate who is angry with me for not coming to Long Island-
She apologizes but I'm angry because I think she wants something from me that I cannot give-
I'm angry because I've failed her and all of my weight comes crashing down.
I turn around and walk home-
the phone is warm and greasy against my palm-
the street lurches back and forth and I want to punch through all of the windows of every car I stumble past.
I fantasize about slicing my own skin open, but masturbate instead.
I don't bother to turn the light off and its possible that my neighbors watched me gasp and tremble and finally collapse into a mound of formless jelly.
and i do not care-
and none of them ever mattered to me, anyway.
It is midnight and I must be human, afterall, because I am crying.
People are yelling, clapping, running down the street.
Fireworks crackle. Something breaks.
A girl laughs.
Sirens and whistles and I wish the building was burning down.
Like a desperate animal I think about fucking again.
I remember the smell of sex and feel a sudden stab of pain-
I've bitten through my lower lip.
I want the kind of release I cannot find on my own.
I don't believe in the future but its still coming, it keeps on coming-
The next few months are uncertain and i can't find secure ground-
Time keeps passing and I hate waiting.
I started by guzzling what was left of the 151-
prancing around in my underwear-
the perverted child instinct exposed.
sheer black stockings, lace around the white of each thigh, straps and buckles and elastic and the slither of silk around the soft flesh of my belly-
I nibble on Corina's arm and she puts the camera down and kisses me-
I push her up against the wall-
I'm wet but my mind is detached-
I'm wet and completely unconcerned.
Corina leaves and I stay because I don't want to go where she is going-
because I am still coughing up blood-
the alcohol has paralyzed the gag reflex but tomorrow morning i will hack up crimson ribbons-
the fever breaks only so that it may descend again-
always this promise, this non-reality.
The walls are closing in and i stumble out of the apartment and take myself for a walk.
my phone keeps ringing-
the street is dark and i walk without thinking because i am blissfully light-
I have lost all of my gravity and the earth's mass no longer affects me-
I pick up my phone this time and its Kate who is angry with me for not coming to Long Island-
She apologizes but I'm angry because I think she wants something from me that I cannot give-
I'm angry because I've failed her and all of my weight comes crashing down.
I turn around and walk home-
the phone is warm and greasy against my palm-
the street lurches back and forth and I want to punch through all of the windows of every car I stumble past.
I fantasize about slicing my own skin open, but masturbate instead.
I don't bother to turn the light off and its possible that my neighbors watched me gasp and tremble and finally collapse into a mound of formless jelly.
and i do not care-
and none of them ever mattered to me, anyway.
It is midnight and I must be human, afterall, because I am crying.
People are yelling, clapping, running down the street.
Fireworks crackle. Something breaks.
A girl laughs.
Sirens and whistles and I wish the building was burning down.
Like a desperate animal I think about fucking again.
I remember the smell of sex and feel a sudden stab of pain-
I've bitten through my lower lip.
I want the kind of release I cannot find on my own.
I don't believe in the future but its still coming, it keeps on coming-
The next few months are uncertain and i can't find secure ground-
Time keeps passing and I hate waiting.