by Allison Morton

Created on: July 09, 2009

He told me I belonged; he told me I was a part of this great, folding, tumbling, rolling, mechanical beast of a family.

When I feel these emotions ripping at the seams, my thoughts running distance marathons in my head (the soles of my shoes are burning through, and I can't afford a new pair), anger and bitter sadness rampaging like an airborne virus.

Your divorce of mind and soul and body and property is running on empty (I'm scraping the bottom of the well for oil, but I've got nothing to burn it with anyway) with nowhere to go but down or backwards and eventually a full mid step stop.

I never know what's going on anymore and I feel as though you've given me a book written in some foreign language (for god's sake they don't even use English letters in Arabia or whatever godforsaken country! How am I supposed to read?), you tell me use that SAT brain of yours (well you know, I'm sorry you dropped out of high school).

Can't you stop fighting each other for power over me?

Power over me that I'm not ever going to hand over anymore (I'm through of your Napoleon syndromes, back off of and me and I'll stop), I don't understand half the ideas in my brain anymore, tired of electrons shooting through the nerves in that small lump of unused flesh.

All I am is meat and flesh and bones and muscle and sinew and blood and white cells and water.

Water, water, water, it's all water.

Water that can never satisfy my thirst for knowledge or power because it's already been ingested and used and transformed into meat and flesh and bones and muscle and sinew and blood and white cells and water.

Nothing but electrical impulses in a lump of dead flesh.

Impulses, needs, wants, that scientists continue to underestimate the beauty of.

Electricity is a miracle, too.

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