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saint chaz final battle

Sean Thornton
Popularity ยท Low
๐Ÿ‡ฌ๐Ÿ‡ง English ยท Original

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At least when I was underwater, I could feel the ice in my veins What, with the salt scraping against the ceiling of my lungs and arteries My skin was smooth and untouchable And I thought for sure that I was dying O! I thought I was an angel O! I want to be an angel But up above the riverbed (on the New Jersey side) Frosty rocks stick to my back, wind squalls made my once-soft skin dry Coercing my tongue towards my open wrists to make them wet again But as salty as my spit may be it doesn't cut quite like the real thing Such an awful thing to accept that you are not dying Such an awful thing to not be dying So for a whole year, I staved off the fire I knew was coming With an ADT security alarm (sign in the front yard) and my, my, my... Four angels stand in the foyer in case the fire burst through the door And fantasy kept her watching 'til she sunk down through the floor And love was watching carefully when she fell asleep on the job And flew up through the ceiling, dreaming of her old close touch And ignorance and vanity were scoring their initials into the walls When the fire started creeping, walking on all fours down the sidewalk And their blade started melting And the walls grew warm and heavy And there was silence in the flame But even silence cannot contain what lies beyond the tenuous grasp Of my atrophied muscles, my red and black fingers The infinite goodness they move within I know that healing is change, and change is frightening New synaptic connections in my brain That I know can change my stubborn identity To which I fearfully and desperately cling But my head is filled with ambivalent visions of softness and violence quarantined The rotting and growing The rotting and growing These sacred dynamics within me Because my infinite body mirrors the world around me Mesh skin stretched over scaffolding I am a God! the Tao is within me! No greater beauty than autonomy! And the other night, I was briefly visited by apparitions of a love determined Seeing sprawling patterns on my bedsheets I realized my love is defined by my caring for myself! I will stop starving! I am deeply worried for the world inside of me Now that I know what escapism means: To step outside, look objectively, and realize that you are suffering Eye-to-eye and cheek-to-cheek with the girl who lives inside of me Envision a love spanning all possibilities Return to your body and set to achieve! When i hold my breast, I am happy! I am beauty! And I am swag! And I am loved! I am loved! I am loved! And if I am honest, enormously honest I don't know how to love if not for profit And i must concede, oh, what a concession That I was never your girl I'm just a centipede baby Oh, Saint Chaz could never put a soul so powerless in such a giant body Tear us down, our devotion, paint our nails with "Good as Gold 941" Smothered by my callousness did you see me lift the razor to my bare wrist? Conquer me, and carry me, and call me yours Love us all, love more than me and love this world too small to see But I won't ask you to step on me anymore ("three-person'd God") Love us all, love more than me and love this world too small to see And I trust that you won't ask me of anything anymore ("three-person'd God") Love us all, love more than me, open palms inside of me Look me in the eyes as I speak, as I speak ("three-person'd God") ("blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord") ("blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord") ("blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord") But my haunted body is not nourished just because my stomach has stopped grasping Fulfill me, and fill me with agate to stop crying Yeah, blue lace so I can start screaming again I have underestimated myself I am the center of the surface of a sphere Did you hear? each thing looks to me for its definition And I tether them to all their rightful roles Now I know that everything inside of me exists outside my window Indifferent but gentle My body goes on for miles and miles Made of pure blue light, food slime, and cigarette butts! From nothing to nothing, from dust to dust! Envisioning golden hands reaching down my throat Envisioning golden hands tearing out the mechanics inside Tightened cords, a smaller chin, inoffensiveness And a vision so small it could only belong to me (...when the earth...) Lift up your chalice, and I promise I'll never reach out to you again The body and the blood I lost when the ground met my fist Lift up your chalice, and I promise I'll never ever suggest it again Lift up your chalices Lift up your chalice, and I'll never ever suggest it again The body and the blood I lost when the knife met my wrist Lift up your chalice, and I promise I'll never reach out for you again Lift up your chalices "I can still feel His touch" ("I can still feel His touch") I used to feel the world's touch via surrogate, a big shiny god And the onus fell on romance when I realized His faรงade And romance was more ephemeral than I thought And so I tried to mimic Her touch By carving gray and white scars up and down my arms I was only hurting a reflection of the world that I love I tried to mimic Her touch By giving my pain a face to which I could look up These abstractions of a power that could make me shut up Thank you.