disease me

it is just a page with some markings
chicken scratch
screen of strangers
shopping mall of illusion
I don’t feel it
I don’t give a shit
it isn’t much
not dense like the music
was
like the words
were
like the used to be of everything

art
meaning
voiced
beat
dripping
in
need

It isn’t much of anything anymore

when it meant it was meant good
it was tangles
high as speed
injected in veins
deep like a soul
I used to know
he diseased me
in the only way
one should

want down in between low down

I didn’t want a cure
I wanted it to kill
me
good and slow
I wanted to
die
tasting his
name


1/4/11
nicoleena