body language

my medication is killing me

I have been dead as long as I have lived.
I won’t make it to thirty. Isn’t that what it always says

What did you do before this?
What do you mean nothing?

I will find it in a cheap motel room off the freeway, or on the antiseptic leather couches of whatever place I will force when I get the courage to remove myself. I used to think that I’d get the chance to sleep in a bed and say I am glad that out of anyone in the world, it was you.

There is a substitute, you can take anyone who will fuck you for a minute. I wish that could be true. Waiting for the one thing that is never coming. I dream of being in the arms of a man who holds an oxygen mask to my face.

When I think of it, I see a moving chest. When I stand next to a person all I know is that I see their body. I am castrated. Don’t remember what it means to be angry. In ten years I will still be dead

It’s not friendship, it’s a partnership. We get along very well. My only language is knowing what I can do. Sometimes I will catch the smell of it

Do you know what it felt like to be loved so deeply that it altered you.
I am the only one who can make something permanent