Cut Me A Slice

Fucking Donught!! Mock Me!?

Aaaaah, get outta my face.

I lie in the grass under the morning rain every day of my present life, with tears running out of my eyes and blood leaking from my heart. I stare straight up and see the moon weeping with me. The moon is the only one who loves me, he welcomes me to the world in the evening and cradles me peacefully until morning comes and my illusion of joy is gone and I am crying all by myself again. In the cold, wet, quiet morning, I find purity in my tears. And by the time I've closed my eyes to sleep, it's day and I'm gone so I don't need to react to anything anymore. I become neutral: I fade to black.

The mirror stares back at me like I'm supposed to justify my existence. She stares at me like I am the reflection like I have no eyes, but yet I can see. Her eyes frowning, glaring, asking the same question: "What are you still doing here?". But her mouth hangs loosely open, her bottom lip pouting out like a 4-year-old in awe asking the same question: "..but WHY?..". I have an answer for neither of these questions, she knows I don't but she never stops asking them, like I might have an answer next time she comes. I hate my reflection, as beautiful as she is.

In my mind, when I am with you, we are not in love. We are in water. The shower. We cleanse each other hand in hand just so we can steal each other's innocence again and again. The lights are on and we can see exactly what we are doing to one another which is intriguing and confusing and weird in an ironic sort of way. You're beautiful when I run my nails down your back, you're beautiful when you tilt your head beck and roll your eyes up and let your mouth hand half-open or bite your lip or grin with ecstasy. You're absolutely beautiful when you hold my shoulders and push yourself deeper inside me, sometimes you're so beautiful I could cry. I wish I could kiss the thought of you because I'm too infatuated to face reality. When I'm with you in water, we are not in love but your body becomes mine and we don't let go.

When I am alone I am miserable. I call you just to keep myself from going insane from the sadness that I don't understand. I will cry as I talk to you and I cry as you speak because you understand better me better than I do. You tell me the truth, and even though it's supposed to be brutal, it feels good to not be lied to.

Except if I'm with him, when I'm with other members of the human race, my emotions fail me. My feelings become the average nothingness. While I may laugh and be crazy and act generally happy, I am living without being alive. Inside I see nothing from the outside. I react to nothing. It's as if my soul is one hundred percent dead while my body still lives.

And as soon as I'm alone again, it's morning and I'm weeping with the moon...