Know This

Alexander Michael Ziperovich

They fed me vast numbers of different, multicolored pills.

Those were the pills to get off the first pills.

Things stopped being easy around 4th grade. I know, bake me a fucking cake.

I’ll make you hate me. I’ll make you sympathetic and cross eyed with hope.

I’ll shoot dope with your hope while I snort coke on what’s left of your grandmother’s teal colored vanity mirror. Oops.

No, I’ll just try to be stable. Stability. Easy to spell. Hard to achieve. Worth shit?

I guess I’m all the way stable, all the way numb, all the way fucking dumb.

I won’t stay this way, I will use guns or arrows or invent new fires I will NOT stay this way I will break things all things I will crush granite to dust so fine that you will take a bath in the remnants of my wreckage, I shall not be consumed by stability. A horrid word. I will smash all of this as long as my brain is there to witness it all go down.

I want my flames to lick my other flames and kiss profanely.

I want to fucking crochet with hypodermic needles.

I want this motherfucking stupid fucking program to stop telling me that “fucking” is spelled wrong because it is not spelled wrong at all. Fuck.

I was never a victim; I chose this, however convoluted though my choice may have been, I chose all of this and now I choose to dismantle what I have chosen for myself without dismantling myself [so I can write].

The only reason I want to keep breathing is to write. The pills weigh on these fingers like blocks of frozen concrete. My insanity is better; at least then I can write.

I will not die before I have written my peace.

Know that if you know nothing else of me.

One response

  1. Your “insanity” is the sanest “insanity” this insane woman has ever seen. Remove the concrete from your fingers and let your insane sanity sing, sing, sing!!!

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