imagine this room is a car,
tearing the rubber from the wallpaper
and the wall from the windows
speeding so fast our stomachs contain
nuclear fusion reactions and stars
supernova-ing in the eyes we lock
and say 'i want to be somewhere else'
speed is only interesting in movie theaters and in dreams.
otherwise we blur into rinds of color and peel back the skin
and step inside a different reality for a moment:
'i want to be somewhere else'

you are afraid of telling me you love me.
you are afraid and ashamed of being afraid
of affection and human beings.
what will i do to hurt you
what will speed make me do to hurt you
i cannot hurt blurs of color
but you have stepped into my viscera
and we are dead still now
except the blurs in our pupils
mixing and swimming in euphorias that supernova evenly.
seconds aren't even when we are still-lives
'i want to be somewhere else
and i am afraid to love you'
why has nobody commented about this.
it's ****ing brilliant.
i don't have constructive,
criticism. only a lust for,
your brain cavity.
i am the lamb.
point me to the slaughter.
I love... this piece. I'm not nearly skilled enough a writer to critique it, so I hope someone who knows what just went through my head can express this in words.
I agree with the above. I love it. A few of lines (Ex: And we are dead still now) read a little choppy, at least to me, but I loved it. The second stanza was stronger than the first, but the first was very necessary. Great job. I wish I had more to say, but I loved it. Would you be willing to look at "Pillow Talk" for me? Much thanks.