Basal Ganglia

Everything you do
confounds me.
I am sick
of being punished,
but you can’t seem to help yourself.
This thing you’re doing
doesn’t work for me.
Press two mirrors together
and nothing happens.
Nothing ever happens.
There’s too much noise
and no signal. So why
do you keep reading this?
Ask yourself.
Why are you still sitting here?
At this table.
I only want something terribly sad.
Maybe you are too big or I am too small.
Lovingkindness is not always instinctive.
I have to tell you something
but I don’t know what. Oh well.
Oh well oh well oh well oh well.
Promises are only words
unless you scream them at me.
I’d rather see an fMRI
of your head the night
we met. Let’s see
if your neurons light up
like someone falling to their knees
and nothing to grab onto.

Aggression is instinctive.

Possession is instinctive.
Darling.
Your eidolon daydream is here
to make you virulent.
The rumors, they’re all true.
I tried, but I couldn’t leave you
or your house
or your head
unhaunted.
I can be selfish like that.
I so like to simplify a thing
and keep simplifying.
Until it nearly breaks.
I so like a nearly-broken thing
held in both my hands.
Then I don’t feel like a ghost.
Like how the night-screaming only stopped
after I told you my secret.
And one day
I will even tell you
how strangely
I have loved you (yes.)
but not today.
Love can be tyrannical.
I need to see your neurons
to believe in you. You know,
love is not god.
This paradox staggered me
when I ran into it.
See how love gazes
and holds its breath.
Blinks out its small code.
Startling. So sure,
there are many ways
to say I love you,
but reticence is not one.

Forfeiture is not one.
Neural constellations might be one.
Let’s see. Do not be afraid
of me. The last thing I want to do
is hurt you, but

you step towards the door

and I say, wait
and you say, for what?
and you don’t know it yet, but this
is your very last
chance.

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