Citizen Insane

Octopus, 2001-06

We worship killers and lizards. Pig shooters on the cusp of dawn. Breathtaking displays of impotence. Read the book of the moon and decipher what it means to be alone. Kiss with lips empty. You can travel the world yet you can never escape the person you’re destined to become. Shaped by others and shaped by yourself. Wide open spaces that bring only longing for the future. Or maybe it’s the past, it’s a tricky one to call. Voices of accomplishment. Unknown soldiers. Voiceless victims in an age that doesn’t want to hear. It claims to care, yet atrocity after atrocity prove otherwise. This is the time when everything fails. Morality and intent left behind in a state of being you’ll never get to taste again. It’s strange how the years get behind you. How they’re destroyed like torn pages from a book. People you can’t remember. Events wiped from your brain with the passing of another phase. This is all eventual. It’s been coming since the earliest moments you can remember. Faith and persistence. Self sufficient with a hankering for Australian white wine. Falling asleep to the repetition of my favourite mantra. Others must fail if I am to succeed. The missing pieces of a puzzle you know she holds deep inside. Treblinka and masturbation. The scent of school and sweet lemonade. Give her the words. Give her the pictures she can use to erase her doubt. The traces of things in the way. Heat and mammary glands. Bus journeys to drowning towns. Sinking dresses beneath elm trees. Cars of flies as larks tongues caress my cigarette stained fingers. Dread in September tombs. Bury me with her. Let us sleep together forever. Twisted sister, she was never given a chance. Cracked skulls and insects at every turn. The weak deserve grace, and the cruel deserve pity. Mix them together and make them all beautiful. Piranha. Plateau. Perfect in your arms. There’s no other place I’d rather be. There’s no other feeling I’d rather have than the one you feed me so easily.

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