Tell me a secret, tell me the truth, tell me what they told you, speak of my youth.

Speak to me freely, tell me of love, tell me of the dance of a morning dove.

She had such a knowledge, I know not what to say.

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I am in a trance, meditating on a deadly wavelength a chaotic hypnosis focusing on a stroboscopic motion, the slicing fan, tragic entrainment , of my mind transfixed on the woman who danced with me, for money and items.

I am dancing right now, with my own death, because I cannot handle living right now, and I don’t want to die, but I am bleeding out a year after losing you, over and over again, triggered by nothing, by you calling me, you texting me, bothering me, so much that I put all this out here on this site, as if it just happened, that is how it feels, like it just happened, but I have bleeding for a year. I am dying over this, and have been for a year, killing myself, with drugs and alcohol over a person who used me for drugs and alcohol. I am disgusted with myself and with her/him. I am so done with all of this, but keep coming back over and over to it, because they won’t leave me alone.

I just want peace, please everything in the universe, please just give me the strength to move on and find something else.

I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.

I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.

I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own

Maker

Breaker

Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.

Facts.

What makes you most anxious?

I don’t do this, and I won’t, never did, never will, always won’t, always don’t dance for anybody ever or with anybody ever, it is awful, and I hate everything about it. I know this, don’t even doubt it. I have a hard time even watching others dancing because it’s stupid,

I don’t see the point and I know it is supposed to be fun, when you are lucid.

And even when you are not, people love this and get caught

Being silly and being taught

To find joy in this but I can’t

I won’t do it, no point no chance, I hate to ****ing dance

Standing and staring someone in the eye, and doing something weird at them, yeah thanks, I think I would rather die, than do this, because it sounds like it sucks.

Stupid, lame, act of schmucks…

I don’t want anyone touch me

I don’t like bumping into things, I don’t like spinning round and round, I don’t like parties, don’t like moving up and down, I am not good at smiling I am good at frown,

I suck, I know, doesn’t show, but **** you, I don’t want to do it, please leave me alone.

A world of blindness, of darting pupils, plagued students of pain, heavy eyes, lacking water even to cry, missing and not able to weep, not able to cleanse, eye stuck together with lack of sleep, batting perpetually, flipping over pupils that feel like thousand lashes.

I am transfixed with your form, shadow dances against your form, beating with the same observation that beats out of my eyes, dancing to catch whatever light radiates out of your moonlight skin

You are the hands of the moon touching my skin, with your hands that radiate the warm unearthly kissing light onto a heart of chaotic night, lighting my eyes with the kiss of the stars, that twinkle through the pores of your rose scented skin, smelling of dancing on flowers that in my blurry eyes look like the hearts of those shadow cast pacers of madness..

You make me… stop.. you make everything alright, my Rei, my Rei of light.

I can die, now… and I am alright…