in the barnA Story by Gastelum
talent's there lying, waiting for me to stroke her.
but laziness is next door, tempting me with her perfect teeth. my talent lies there, and i know i should lie beside and wrap her with one arm but there is no fascination, no guessing, no wondering in it. laziness teaches me that each time i razor my skin there is another world that opens up and breathes life upon my exposed blood. a world that accepts my offering of neatly opened skin. laziness is my master, and all i can drink is her stare. she waits so daringly in the shadows of all my productivity, even on the sunniest days i see her grin from the back of the barn. she reminds me of the pain from the razor cuts and captures me with my own knowing. i ask myself questions, and all the day long ending back where first i begun. i end in the beginning of how everything can relate to me. elliptical. my questions are my own answers. white sparks like lightening from my eyes when the ideas enter my head. each idea is sent forth in a battle he will never win. ejected. repelled. slaughtered. laziness, pain. feeding the poor with sticks while i eat rotting meat and its bloody secretion. productivity, gain. feeling the down pour of sweat as i see the end, the finish, and completion. talent's lying there, waiting to sleep so she can go to work early in the morning. but i work graveyard and it interferes with our relationship. she lies there, and i know i should lie beside and wrap her with one arm but there is no fascination, no guessing, no wondering in it. my dreams await me, and there is nothing but death in my dreams. i awake to the feeling of spiders descending my ceiling and hovering above me only to scatter while i lay there adjusting my eyes. swallowed by the fear that i am losing my actual mind in this actual life. ejaculating enough to let her know i still desire her but the conversations have become dry and lacking substance. i love her, but i hate myself. elliptical. laziness, joy. feeding the insanity and watching some veins in my arm and the bloody secretion. productivity, heaven. feeling the down pour of blood as i see the beginning, the god, and completion. affronted by solitude prostituted by fear confused by existence grip the razor slide it silently over the beautiful canvas call the ambulance lay in a cold room for two days evaluation talk to the doctor tell them it was a mistake smile as she cries rinse wash repeat. © 2012 Gastelum |
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Added on August 21, 2012 Last Updated on August 21, 2012 Author |