Someone told me talking to women was completely different from talking to men
Familial desire circumventing physical rationality
I don't ******* get it
Flesh is flesh
There is no separation between this body and the next
No delineation save for my own arbitrary ones
This world is chaos bound by imposition
And none of it is real
I'm not even going to say middle class conceptions of family are constructs
Everything is a construct
Knowledge is anthropic chaos
Don't pretend you can tell the difference between essential existence and our subjective reordering of boundless matter
A gap does not form between a molecule of air and a molecule of flesh
I am trapped in my own sensations but I am not defined by them
So back to the story of material existence reduced to reproductive imperative
Treating all of the other *** as a means to displace one's self beyond annihilation into temporal infinity
Who ******* cares?
Legacy does not carry on after death
Legacy does not even carry through life
Language breaks down the moment we open our mouths
No one will ever view your life the way you view it
Splashing through a pool, ripples morph all reflections into monstrous amalgamations
Hey, tell me
Do you even remember yourself that clearly?
Hollow triumph, grandfather's bones in a grandfather clock ticking past twelve
Sorry, I just don't see the allure of treating half the human race as a means to satiate your own lust whether physical or genealogical
Or even categorising humans into binary dualisms that bored philosophers a century ago
Haven't you heard? God is dead
And there is no meaning to your boring male existence

♦ Become a friend
♦ Learn her secrets
♦ Swallow her demons by choice
♦ Tell her she is wanted always in all ways
♦ Choose time shared over all else
♦ Pick weakness out of need
♦ Push hard while showing kindness
♦ Sincerity and pain
♦ Wanting all, yet giving nothing
♦ Prove dependability
♦ Turn fear into reality
♦ Use her heart against her, gutting her invisible

And with the final lie that defines a gender
"I want you to always be here"
Turns into a silent, wordless exit

disillusionment.
deconstruction.
liberation.
the breaking of bones.

a knife
   stabbed me in the back,
and i cried, "*******!"

a boot
   kicked me behind the knees,
then pushed my face
   into the dirt,

and i thrashed
   until i could thrash no more.

i became sullen.
hopeless.
bitter.

so i climbed into a spaceship
and shot
through the earth's atmosphere.

w   e   i   g   h   t   l   e   s   s

liberated

i felt beautiful.

i could see the whole,
  and it made sense.
i felt the relativity
  of unfocused thoughts

the importance of calm
  of simple togetherness
    pleasure
      the pressure of time
        the shortening of days

and then i fell,
plunging to the earth
to break my bones.

movement made slow
  just when the sun shone
standing uncomfortable
  in fear, in pain.

loneliness,
but wanting no one
(please just leave me alone)

i'll live in my fictions

i'll grit my teeth through the pain
  and keep moving

i won't allow tears
  until at least one foot is out the door

i'll play songs on repeat,
  and subsist on cocoa krispies if i want to

i'll draw cells

and i'll write and i'll write

liberated and disillusioned
liberated and lonely
liberated and in pain
liberated and in fear
liberated and frustrated
liberated in chocolate
  liberated in red wine.

When Jacques Derrida's Mother
Embraced the concept
Of  'wholly other'
She loosed her hold on life
In the past tense
And gave herself up to
The 'Metaphysics of Presence'.

How I love this new-found euphoria
Now there is no more aporia.
If only the world would grasp
The concept of deconstruction.

So she put down her knitting
Logged onto the internet
And signed up for a course on
Basic Moxibustion.

Such a great invention
This internet
But life is even better
Without unresolved tension.

Oh for a mother
To understand her son.