find me


Who has been hiding under the bed , these lonely nights? I whisper, asking if anyone’s listening but no one answers. Some people ask me to speak louder, the well wishers. I speak a little and then leave again, trying to find a voice so perfect that no one mistakes it for real or for mine… still… I want you to find me. Not always. Sometimes, I want you to find me… and undress me. I want you to see me. I think you would understand if I tell you no one understands… I know, I know… you won’t tell me that everyone feels down sometimes… Is it a sin to immerse myself in the still black waters of this lake? I want you to find me, eyes closed, face expressionless, hands moving to some music, no one can hear… Is it a sin to feel this? Angry masses roar together outside raising their voices for freedom. Some voices thoughtful, some voices mad… a very specific moment… very specific conditions. Raise your voices, I whisper, raise them louder than the generators… they are trying to drown your voices in their huge reservoirs of filth…
Is it a sin to drink from the chalice of gold? There is no meaning to it, my friends remind me. There are machines, huge monstrous machines, assembly lines, cellars upon cellars overflowing with age old wines… Instagram pictures of the rich consuming their riches and followers consuming the images… is there a taste to these pictures? There is an aftertaste for sure… bitter and toxic like cheap plastic… Gym Mickeys and chiseled Minnies, perfect and desirable… I wonder what I am supposed to desire more? To look like him, or to be with her… or if I look like him, I can be with her… Or if I like her, I should look like him… Or if I her him like look I should… oshr hok ofimh Ieud
I want you to find me… and undress me. I want you to see me… I want to see you…

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