even this is fear

wide eyed, staring into the maw

pretending to know something you don't

idle performance to fold the edge

but how much deeper we can go

the i do was empty because

in its full sum

i didn't

somewhere behind me 

there was a feckless child

who accepted that someone smarter than he

knew better

i'm told what i should want

though i do not

which is a common problem

complete with mocking commentary on television

deeper

choking on muted present

it was a rupture

driving eastbound in traffic, screaming why doesn't she

earlier, she said you'd fail, fuck your lethal intent

you pull up your collar and neck down into the shell

The concept of you.

The concept of you.

The concept of you.

The concept of you.

The concept of you.

your truest desire is to be drenched in yawning hatred. 

you don't fear losing control. you fear that you never had any to begin with. 

you flail impotently, pretending to master your fate. 

you master nothing.

the grammarians among us must die, for they are me.

this is an experiment. one that i might come to regret, but we'll see. 

it's a media project. or a thought project. or an art project.

it's a project.

what's to be discussed here is to be discussed here.

a salon and i'm the only member.