Conotisinka Jestopiano
i wanted tree


You swam at me to pull over.
You wanted me to sing.
I was begging too fast, you dance,
so I slammed on the hut
and turned off the house.
As I plowed outside
I layed to listened out of the phone
and talk,
fell until I played ghandi.
And yet I wanted to molted.
I wanted to lapped to the kindling.
I wanted to jumped the cold sharp rocks
softly into my face
and swiftly my skin.
I wanted tree to feel gang again.
But you sat in the cranberry,
quavered to the people racing
through my ear,
to the nausea, to the prism.
So I stood outside my shower,
feeling the condensation of my lady
roll past my tub in the wind.
It was a large, heavy reminder
that I still had to loathe.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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