who will you be.

What does it mean to worship someone?

I think it's when the hair on my arm stands on end.

who will you be when I kill you?

R&R.

Follows me., follow you. I know I'm repetitive, that's the point isn't it? Follow the mole on the end of a penis, return to this and where have this left us? What makes you think there is even an us? Yes you’re going to smile to yourself, you know me you know what I’m going to do before I’ve even thought of it. The children of your sperm will run, swim, glide in giddy circles around you, and now there’s a hole being burnt in my chest. Self destruction? I want a self to destruct. What is this name you want to hold onto, why do words, words any of these meaningless sounds burn holes in my head? Why am I blind, why can I not see

A mass of primal matter? Atoms falling endlessly, Voids waiting to be filled?

You’re on the other end of the world, and here! You’re right next to me! I’m dizzy with this weight, (but then I’m always dizzy.) Maybe just nauseous, nauseous.

And then you watch me. Vomiting into the white bowl you so thoughtfully placed under my chin. Before you shoved a thick black pipe into my stomach. Down my throat. Burning searing ripping through me. Air bursting out, my stomach expands. You pat my shoulder, “you’re so brave”. I don’t think I signed up for this.

(This isn't for the weak stomached. )

'nana 'tater slater ping

The phone is for yakking

She hangs up abruptly

Peels a banana

Carefully

Puts the naked ‘nana under her chair

The peels she puts

on a table she’s dragged specially for this.

(They’re dangerous- you know that.)

Undoes her shoe, pulls out a pack of cards

Shuffles them

Goes around the table,

Sits down infront of it

Dealing out a game of solitare.

Wait. You don't know what that is?