9-9-09

9/9/09
I had a dream last night…
Strings were threaded right through my hands,
And I hung breaking from my fingers,
Before the string was cut and I pulled it
out with my teeth and my palms wouldn’t stop bleeding.
And I’m searching, exploring, for another meaning
that doesn’t paint a picture of sick salvation
I don’t want to be saved, don’t you get it?
If it had been under my control,
I would have put the string right through my throat,
It would have been a little more successful
and a little more gratifying than dying like the man
who created the world, he doesn’t deserve the capital
of importance and Hell, who am I kidding?
I’d die any way that Death willed, and let him
transport me from one grave to another.