Struggleagainstmyself

"Erupt again, ignore the pill...and I won't let it show.
Sacrifice the tortures, orchestral tear cash-flow.
Increase, delete, escape, defeat -- it's all the matters to you.
[Cotton case for an iron pill.]

E-motion sickness,
[To idle with an idol.]
E-motion sickness...
Addict with no heroine --
[Corrosive head-pollution.]"

I always thought I could captain myself. 'This one here, she won't run aground on foreign shores where emotions like blast-propelled lead buttons pit the skin and bite into the eyes.' The term "crushing blow" can be applied to that which transcends the physical, you know. Crushingblowcrushingblowohlookwhatyou'vedonenow. I've never had conversations that lasted until the light shone through my window. The last time I was awake when little grey birds sang, I was attempting to decipher the meaning of a four-part tattoo on the back of a sensitive mistake. Oh. I was crippled by words. I see in words, feel in words, taste in words. Sometimes I see tree-shadows and streetlights and sharp edges (that's what I said, wasn't it? I thought it was a beautiful string of images...). Sometimes I feel pages on my insides, vellum leaves covered in thick layers of afraidexcitedstrangealivehappysad. Sometimes I taste the word 'self-deprecation,' and sometimes I taste the words 'a maelstrom of unconnected thoughts ending in my too-soon descent.'

Sometimes, sometimes, oh sometimes I want to kill the vine-feelings.

"Imagine pageant,
In my head the flesh seems thicker;
Sandpaper tears corrode the film...
And I need you now somehow.

...Open fire on the needs designed."

I was rushed headlong through the hospital corridors covered in the vein-juice of confidence and control. In the blink of an eye, there was no one attending. No one attending. It doesn't really matter where it all began -- all I know is that I was covered in darkness. Covered in the vein-juice of a little girl's strengths dissolved by her natural (acidic) tendency to forget and bow down. Look at me rambling. No one can decipher this mess of language and thought-strings, you silly thing.

Please decipher me. I'm getting tangled in myself.