ﾉ your head's only medicine

[feverish]

please do not post

this is a graveyard as much as it is an archive --
lined up in pine boxes are the thoughts & desires that never made it past the drawing board.

six feet under, the wood splinters.

[feverish]

entries
001 -- burial | 020625
002 -- prayers | 020725
003 -- horticulture | 020725
004 -- remembrance | 020825
005 -- borderline | 020825
006 -- formication | 021125

[feverish]

020625

i have tried to bury you.

i have shoveled such a copious amount of stone and soil atop your corpse
that it would lead anybody to think the only remnant and final reminder
of your sickeningly human body
is dust once again.

(if you were even made of stars in the first place.)

for the love of god --
cease your groaning, your laughter,
and your grinning, you cheshire;

i can assure you that i am haunted enough

[feverish]

020725
3:20 am

i find myself sitting before you
drenched in your holy aura like sunlight
and i am in love, all over again, in a heart-beat's time
as raucous laughter shakes your sturdy frame.

you fail to notice my clasped hands --
so i begin to pray.

they say that the definition of insanity is pointless repetition,
desperate attempts to modify the end result without adjusting the variables --
i prefer the term "faith".

if you've never listened before, i'm begging you to start now
how can you make this scene so fleeting?
i have thought you before to be cruel, but nothing compares to the knowledge you've granted me
that this cannot last forever, that i cannot survive in a photograph,
frozen in time until i inevitably burn up or fade away.

i pray you allow me the strength to survive when the curtain falls.

-- m.

[feverish]

020725
1:11 pm


i am in love and i hope it consumes me
dionaea muscipula --
allow me to nourish you
with my entire being.

i circle your head like a vulture
but my hunger couldn't matter less,
though it gnaws at my hollow gut
like a wolf, rabid, visceral --

all i want is you.

you have taken root in my veins
may you flourish off my blood --
and grant me the opportunity
to breathe your oxygen.

-- m.

[feverish]

020825
12:40 am
xx ( l . w )


(memories burn and sear
like embers against my aching palms
as i tear through my hippocampus
in search of you)


my return was not celebrated
rather tolerated, handled
the disappointment palpable despite your best efforts

"learned your lesson?"

i've got a record on loop of that line
and the way you tensed
your fist itching to connect with his nose
maybe only because it resembled your own

and as smart as you are, i fear you fail to understand
the blame i took was nothing compared to the pain i spared you
i'd do it again, and again; again, and again
as i'd do anything at all just to guarantee you
a good morning.

(i cannot stand how fluorescence feels against my skin these days.)

[feverish]

020825
4:30 pm

i feel the illness creeping in like a stray cat, thin and wiry and ready to bite the hand that feeds it. it slinks through my veins and originates from some dirty place in my heart, a beast not of malice but of fear and desperation. i try to catch it (after all it’s bad for the ecosystem) but it eludes me, always hunting after rationale just to devour it in seconds. it’s a greedy, selfish creature, and one that i find myself viewing in the mirror these days despite my efforts to suppress it. it runs rampant in my blood and gets stuck in my head like a prayer to some deity that’ll never answer. some days, i feel more like rather than trapping the cat, it has trapped me. folie a deux, my love.


(i’ve exhausted myself now, stumbling through my thoughts. goodnight, take care.)

[feverish]

021125

cyclical dissonance haunts me in the form of our loveless cacophony. the music we make is nauseating and i can't stand to listen but my ears ring in the silence regardless. and i would know the rhythm of your heartbeat in a room full of ribcages but i would never seek it out. you come to me hungry and i go to you afraid. you sink your unsheathed claws into my shoulder blades and rip until i'm bloody but for some reason, i continue to scratch your back with the utmost care.

i don't even think i can blame you.
it must be nice.