A Brat in Meditation and a Sky full of Stolen Hearts

Dec 18, 2020, 05:00 AM
I climb every tree that I fall in love with. I sit. I sing. I walk toward nothing. I run away from everything. I dance in front of moving vehicles just to make them stop, to make them feel anything at all “Snap the fuck out of it baby! Don’t you want to feel! You cannot go on like this. This is a sickness and your body knows it, with your whole soul kicking your guts from the inside out. You seduce yourself with a memory. You remember a beggar screaming under baby purple sheets. The sound was coming from me. I wanted you to stay inside forever. I tightening my grip around your fingertips as you pulled away. I can’t stay forever. Waiting on a ghost is a waste. You are always by my side. I wrote the contract. You signed. You didn’t tell me, you were planning on sacrificing everything on this physical plane. You didn’t warn me before you took my sight. You packed in a hurry. You took what you thought would sustain you. You stole my light. I rolled over, still half way inside of dreaming. In this one, you never went away. I see you stuffing a bright red backpack with a stunned elephant and all the love I had chosen to give away. This is the secret I never told. I wasn’t lying. I needed a very long time to properly recall this moment. I knew it wasn’t returned when I gave it. I knew it wasn’t the same. I knew it was in vain. I was so fucking full of myself. I thought if I could just look you in the eyes at dawn, you’d find I was too beautiful to leave without an explanation. I thought you’d find me deserving of the truth. But I knew too, you didn’t deserve to be convinced. I knew that you needed to be the source of the love, you were reflecting off of me. I knew you didn’t love what was within. I knew I couldn’t heal you. I knew everything. With both eyes open, I made the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my sleep. I chose to let you take my heart away. I chose to let you leave with everything I had in this state of conscious living. The material plane never meant much to me anyway. Though, of all the stupid shit that insists on taking form and maintaining a rhythmic existence, my heart was my favorite thing. I didn’t know how long I could breathe without it. But I knew it would soon die in the palms of you hands. Outside of my body it persists on dissipating. Poof! Three years pass in a single night of dancing. Boom! The material world vanishes from sight. You cant breathe. You search your hands for my love. You feel death. You step into the canyon and scream bloody murder. Someone calls the cops. The call drops. The phone shatters. The screen goes extinct. The body remembers touch. You feel life. Again my heart searches for the body it belongs to. My light can only follow you through my sight. If you cant see the darkest parts of me without abandoning your body, you will never see again. This place is shit. If you are not staring at my skin in the reflection of the moon, you are missing the point entirely. The point is this, you’re a shitty thief and your secrets are not worthy of speech. My intuition plays the details of time and space on my ceiling. Staring is my revelation. If you know what you are seeking, it will always find a way to stand before you. Truth is inevitable; time supports the desires of universal justice. Holding the scales in my seductive grace, I look forward; I get everything that I want. My desire moves your memory over the scent of my skin. You don’t even know me. Is that Palo Santos? Sage? You smell like the forest floor being swept by the tides of the ocean. You look like a portal to the star of my choosing. You sound like an open book. Time melts when it touches your skin. You don’t have a name. I cannot live without saying it aloud. I cannot stop loving you. The love must come from you. Otherwise it’s only a reflection. Almost all humans are very sick. Most bodies are abandoned. Most souls are floating in the sky. An electric vortex is spinning them in circles. It’s the most powerful source of energy imaginable. I can’t believe no one else is seeing this. I can’t believe her spark is being stirred around in a mush of stolen hearts. I can’t believe it is raining the blood of the only woman I’ve ever loved. I can’t believe I couldn’t save her. If I did, I would curl up in a ball like a baby, squeeze my knees to my chest, and never move again. So I make believe another thing. I pretend she was never stolen. I pretend she lives. I part my lips and drink the thick red. I lick it off her legs. I bite. I don’t put restraints on my imagination. I don’t play games. I know the power that I am and I intend to use it. I intend to reach higher than the machine can calculate. I intend to turn off every light. I intend to let nature have her way with every move my body makes. I am prepared. When these lifeless fleshy things feel hunger for the first time and start eating everything left, alive or dead, I will only let them taste what I am. I will reflect what was stolen without their permission. You will taste blood again. But this time it won’t be my love. It will be your own.”