January 22nd, 2017: I begin to consume myself

I begin to consume myself through the air and my eyes,

stir a pulp of the world to drink and hold past long cool sounds.

To follow this path I should know the workings of evil and hunger.

This is a new breath come shaking my body, watch fruit fall and rot personally.

I hold hope in hand with my grand whole nada and nod delirium.

It will be some time before my lips drift apart for I am listening.

I must digest this field quickly as deep grey box cars pass full of sadeyed fury.

This is the deathly time happening but I’ve survived inside this skin and sex I wish to remove.

I could chew out my feathers and fall in good conscience, the same twister will care for me.

This is the morning with a marigold dawning of choice, fiery and pummeling first taste of the world.

I eat newspapers, six this week like biscuits in my coffee (quietly desperate and plain at 3am).

I have a world to become or I will pass by unburdened, naive as a kite. Sickly thinking, I could.

It is time to slit my sail and join the ocean before I reach the white sand shore.

I should become human before I think to join their fold.

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