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Date Posted: 01:36:01 05/03/01 Thu
Author: Crysta
Subject: Hyperactivity

Bring the water to a boil and let it simmer,
Add in the pasta and watch it soften…
Hot flashes rushing inside this body
Spark the song I scream,
“You’ve give me fever,”
While I beat my head against the air,
Sugar coursing through my veins.

Trying to run faster than the thoughts
Burying their graves beyond my lips
And the pot boils over,
But as I turn down the heat
Sweat beads on my upper lip.

Spin in circles, empty the dishwasher,
Watching as a knife taps my forearm
And imaging the blood trickle down my wrist,
But instead I throw them- the knives the forks the spoons-
Into their select little spaces, ORDER ORDER ORDER!

Where’s my select little space?

Drenched now,
Shivering cold and clammy in that suffocating little box,
As I read the time to cook,
Nothing-NOTHING- breathes down there,
It’s a little box in my hand
Shouting “FIVE MORE MINUTES!”

What can I do in five more minutes?

Jerking I scream my song and flail my shrinking arms,
But I remember you and your sunlight,
Warm comforting light,
Covering my face with your gentle touch
As you search my eyes for the truth beyond my smile.

I can’t stop shaking as the truth and misconceptions squeeze me relentlessly,
I never realized how soaked I stood in bubbling wetness
When I tried to be so dry and cold.

And I felt cold damnit!

Here I am stinking of your sweetness.

Then I stare at her in disgust as she shoves the gag down my throat,
Knowing what I choked on long before-grotesque and engorged.
She had to remind me that she is the victim- she will die at my expense,
Unless I hold her, and tell her its all my fault.

Calmed,
I hid her pills and ran off to be alone in the arms of play,
And I’ll make my dinner for half.

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