Tell Me Everything

To live vicariously...

Let it out.  It's okay.  There, there sweetheart, it'll be alright.  Let me nurture you for a while.  Let me take care of you.  Let me hold you until the shakes stop.  Until everything feels right.

Scream if you need to.  Lash out.  I'm tough and masochistic baby, it's alright, I can take it.  Make me bleed.  Give me everything.  Submit.  Relent.  Press the little red button that sets off the nukes.  I want to feel your fallout.  The misery.  The pain.  The guilt for feeling bad when you know all about the how, the why, the reasons you are what you are.  Your unwillingness to let it go.

I'm hungry for you.

I need to feel it.  I want to take in everything horrible inside of you.  The more you hurt the more I absorb.

Call it living through others.  Call it an attempt to feel something because I can't feel my own.  Call it absolution.  Call it inspiration.  Call it sedation so I don't explode.  Call it the journey to discovering the meaning.  Call it fulfillment.  Call it altruism.

And when it comes...

The rush is harder than any substance.  It's the removal of all of the tarnish instantly from the silver.  Brilliance from tars.  An orgasm that lasts a week.  Exhaustion from the cylinders grinding off all the rust.  Black restful sleep.  No more being up every hour and checking the clock.  I need it to survive.  I'm an addict.

Let me have a taste...

I'll add it to my own demons.  I'll assimilate you.  I'll feel it all forever.  I will search it out in my mind and hurt myself with it.  It's my German made stainless steel blade with a lifetime warranty.  I'm carving on the inside of my head.  Etching things into the fleshy grey.  Scraping slivers off the bone inside my skull when I try to claw my way out of it.  I don't really want out.

I am the victim.  I am the abuser.  I am your Jesus.  I am your Devil.  Give me your sins.  Give me the sins against you.  Give it all to me.  Give me every part of your soul.  Give it to me quick, I'm going into withdrawals.

I'm a junkie for your pain.  The currents pulls me in and all I feel is desire.

"I feel it coming and I've got to get out of the way
I hear it calling and I come cause I can't disobey
I should not listen and I shouldn't believe but I do, yes I do"

What happens after?

Do you want me to lie to you or tell you the truth?

Do you already know and have a hard time admitting it because I've planted an idealism in your head?

Is it a conflict?

Toss the lifeless husk over the shoulder.  Toss the fixed psyche a reason to run.  Toss out another baited hook.  Toss the guilt and the pain away.  Toss away your sanity.  Toss yourself off the roof.  Toss the heart you tore out of your chest for me while you were on the way down.  Toss me off your cloud when you finally see me as poison.  Toss me so I know what it's like to fly when I fall.

Peel me open.  Use me.  Realize me.  Plot against me.  Take yourself as far as you want.  The higher you go, the better the ride down for me.  Outsmart me.  Cut me.  It's the only thing that will make me whole.  It's everything that's made this hole.  Peel me open.

And then I'll just lay there on the ground staring into the sky with dilated pupils.  I'm home when I'm buried in the ground from the impact.  Hand me the pen.  Let me scribe the future for you.  Let me make something real for once.

Author's Note

I don't really know what to call this, but I like the style.

Reviews

[Daniel Atkinson]

Very well written. The style is right down my alley. My only suggestion is to make it a bit shorter, because after a while it becomes redundant. Otherwise, great work.