Take my organs

I am so broken

And I do not want to be patched back together again

Like rotten fantasies and empty fairytales I have moved on again

From the desire to deceive and never display the decay that resonates from limb to bone to joint

Even if my body aches, I live for the pain in the pleasure of not being able to point out where it hurts specifically because it breaks again and again and my body has become a floating cesspool filled with poison and friends I’d rather transform into someone half as good as him

I like this noise inside my falling corpse and not because I am a masochist
But because the mass of his feeling was partially colliding with my spherical collapsing walls it was a miracle
because I felt like I was falling apart but every part was already gone

Every time his touch was for me it would linger on in my mind for weeks at a time and then I’d lose an organ.

It would become liquid and dissipate into music, sounds were so vital.

I’d grow roses where I bled, I’d melt my teeth into red bullets, I can hear the fullest music from my shattered spine.

I’d intertwine my vessels with his, his mind was a vessel for the lithium that latches to my little helium head.

He read my fingertips I’ve never felt so broken and delighted to be a part of this earth, the feeling is heavily crushing then touching my palms.

I want to play with his feathery song fists.
And he would touch me again, a punch made up of dreams and I would lose a chance for the vaccine, a kiss but mostly an organ

And when he would speak I lost an organ again

So simply, they’d evaporate into the silhouette of the sun.
He has begun to be melted sex from a distance that allows for less than a taste, every time I saw him less of me would remain I’d lose an organ again

And I try to battle it play organs, piano keys, trying to conduct symphonies through poetry but I cannot express pass this feud of destruction primed by notoriety,
I am in a box of limitations because I have finally lost my title of being able to speak fluently,
fluidly being able to connect through continuity finding the alphabet as a translation from the indecipherable symbols in the form of pixies possessing my pain into being able to describe feelings from dust to distain.

But I do not what I feel because when he made me think my brain flew away tickling my neurones as they escaped.
I want to be open like I was once, a body filled with blood and oxygen.

Small lungs and fairytales to fill the empty space a human body contains but that part of me only loves lust less than ludicrousness
I am no longer lucid in this muggle realm but this feeling is just like being sliced in the thickest ice cube in exchange for pleasure.

I feel such magic in this pain.
I talk to you in my imagination.

I wish you were here when I was suffering this devastation of your touches to me, teasing me, pleasing me, appeasing me then leaving me again and again.

I think this all as I sit back down on the train and you look at me on the platform and form my own reality of
what could be or could never be or will be or won’t be,

and you look me in the eyes or walk away and it breaks this figment of false realities that had once cultivated me.
You look back at me and I feel my heartbeat stop but most of the time I don’t feel it beating at all.
You remind me of the organs I have only as you take them away.

The image of you imagining that the war inside my mind is happening only when you are looking, leaves me tearing my eyes in lost islands of sea-green trees. 
It tears my iris, beyond my iris now is the kindest stare of heartbreak

I’ve never been so willing to give up my organs

It scares me and makes me so worried you fall out of love with me or worry I will fall out of love or love will fall out of us or the planets and stars will fall on us before love can catch us I worry that I will be left broken with only a melted brain, red teeth with no organs

With nothing left to be broken

Exactly as I was before I met you.

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