this beautiful hunger that kills

downloaded kill a man for his giro today am squirming in my own obsession am replete with the removal of a mask. feel like a dirty boy, a stained joy. not happy with myself, i see a way of coming to, out onto consciousness all i wanted to forget. and i no longer feel man or woman. there’s a girl fading out like a valium hit, and she’s watched by a hundred unwashed rock stars, all straining at their weakness. could wipe my own sickness across this computer screen for i’ve found my delusion, i’ve found everything i ever wished i was, in the dead of a library, at the opening of a scripture.
i could feel blessed and cursed, but i feel more ever lost on the highways i track to bedlam. i am doomed to folly, and ever closer to the truth. cold rum won’t soothe my soreness, it runs deep inside my tendons, under the fur of ache and safety.
i am losing the thread, losing thread you lost me again into the tattoos on his chest. is suicide the only victory? i wonder and i wonder. you won’t learn much about me by the way i smell, by the cut of my hair.
and this beautiful hunger that kills will not entertain ravens of mediocrity and leisure…it was born of grace left alone and suffer still will all come upon us and leave us saddened by a country wall. torment lifts you, a union jack dying in your arms.
and genius is an empty jacket floating down the river, it is death on the night of victory, it is hammer house of horrors. feel the landslide, lie on the back of treachery, not a prisoner or a priest, a popster or a poet. unsurrounded by hope, dreaming the impossible dream, a corpse without speculation, a narrow line of light between two walls that became god and was forever godless. if this is genius, i am a knocked down door. and we can be, we can be. brilliance fell out with words, with what is spoken. it became homeless, a dragged out party queen drinking only liquor, eating nothing, never asleep.
all this hunger is inside of me and i am unravelling rope, unravelled rope.