Anthology

Kissing the Devil in my Head

In the midst of the epidemic

With people distanced

And places shuttered

I am unable to stay

Intact

Is it guilt that eats me?

Or stomach acid?

Either way I am to be consumed

The worst timing for another bout with the devil

With the monster in the scales

With the hatred of being whole

Of being full

Of existing

Rancid timing for a rancid person

But that's not language I'm supposed to use

I can feel my bones grow weaker

Or at least, I pretend to

Change doesn't come so rapidly like that

Unless it does

Who am I to know?

I'm hoping to shed the pounds like rain from an umbrella

Skin clinging to my bones, light and crumpled up, tucked away

That's a horrifying image, isn't it?

God, to be self aware of your lackluster fantasies

I pity the whole- they're missing out on so much torment

Shadenfreud, but for yourself

Self flagellation at it's finest but I'm looking to be saved so I don't really know anymore

It is no secret I hide that I suspect a genetic line of mental instability

But neither do I highlight it.

I think we're all a little unhinged-

Trouble with expectations, with control, with weight

It runs in the family, be it nature or nurture

We all hate it, and hate ourselves for it

But what is there to be done?
and what can you expect anyway?

There is no cure, when you are not sick

As if we believed in cures anyway

That's one I never told you, isn't it?

That we reject modern medicine.

Downright idiotic, says the science, but yet here I am.

Be funny if that's why we were crazy, wouldn't it?

The vaccines cause autism, but not taking them causes depression and anorexia.

Fair trade, right?

It's like licking your blood from your teeth- it's sweet, but in a really horrifying manner.

Like you're thoroughly creeped out, but you kind of want more.

That thing that prevents you from looking away from a trainwreck in progress

Morbid curiosity, but serial.