being bulletproof hurts more

i'm dizzy with everything,
today, lost
in footsteps resounding
through tunnels and
on top of pavement;
nooses around necks, give
way to hands that
are so full of habit
they've stopped trying
to stop
a long time before
i was ever known...
push
push
push everything
so that feelings
cease to feel, so that
the noise is
mute and the movement
is moot;
burn my tongue
with your mouth full
of matches, let your
water extinguish my
fire, so that
heads can walk
so full of smile, but
it's so empty, and
so fake. i'm faking
this silence and
giving you gifts,
ribs cracking and
heads bobbing and
feet walking and
for what...?
for this?
fuck this, i hate
this. this
de-collision of
worlds, this sweeping
up shards, this
shiny plastic-wrap silence.
i don't even know
how this
happened.

karma - you win. i give up. i'll be in the studio, i'll be walking, i'll be anywhere but where this is.

k.