Therapeutic
I rang out the scary as shit Slavic bells
and laid down a hole in the snow.
It was every storm I’d ever wanted.
The brain in the sky flickered.
The sun poured like bathwater.
The weather could’ve been my blowjob
when I fell off into sexy nothing
and all the electrical sockets
burned out. When I rot into place,
whole god damn world’ll smell
like my black brain. It’ll be heaven.
I’ll play telephone with myself,
feel the echoes building. Moon’ll
hit the brick floor in neat piles.
Song in my head won’t sleep—
I’ll never sleep. I’ll talk to you
until I can’t remember you
and when I’m born I will push
the baby doll out of the socket.
I have never slept. The sun
is just fake ass lightning.
Everything pivots on my lips.
We only have cliffs so we can hit the bottom.
