i am slipping away
slowly and steadily
from myself, god
and those i love,
like you.
i weep for shame
at my nausea with
life. i contemplate
the will to live and
not for a moment
will i consider the
consequences of
my secret mutinous
philosophy.
friends'll tell me
to talk. self-loathing
words, words, words
to a plaid suit
and red bow tie
would melt away
when I'm standing
on railroad tracks,
begging for the
chariot to swing low,
bound from
heaven. or hell.
whatever. i
know that this
is what its like,
being erased.
funny. i'd wondered
how mickey mouse
felt every time
walt disney
changed his mind.
that's how god
works at times.
"wrong. all wrong."
rub. rub. rub.
blow.
"start from
scratch."