shuffling

there are days I feel so wrong that my brain has convinced me my DNA has fallen out of line. and my compulsions count my breaths in series of fives. my head feels awkward, stacked haphazardly on my neck like a poorly constructed skyscraper. why do I live for such maladexterities? I want so badly to navigate using only the stars, to pedal-push until my achilles tendon collapses and my brake pads turn to silt. careening down empty freeways, blind to speed limits and self-preservation. and all my ashes will disintegrate into the tide's breath and I will lose the wrinkles barricading my eyelashes.

there is a game of pong being pinged in my cranial cavity where my brain should be.

don't tell me to calm down or get along or deal because I am beyond the realm of such things. I am amidst the stuff of movie scripts and American tragedies, and it is more draining than a marathon in spandex shorts. my stomach insists on swallowing everything below the protection of my rib cage.

it's so pointless to engage anyone these days. they are all the elect and I am but a gypsy. shiny things and pretty dances, with bones awry. no regard for confines like skin and bodily proportions. tomorrow is a friday and I am acute kidney failure. I wonder how it feels to have all your blood filtered into a plastic chamber and ushered back into your veins. synthetic? violated?

to deduce a truth is an incredible feat when they are so easily nestled between fields of untruths and antitheses.