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A Monster’s Bloodletting.

This would let me explore my monster,
release him from his cage, shaking
off all my anxiety, exhausting
my rage, extinguishing all desire,
stepping back,

seeing the painting
at a distance, as a whole,

looking away
and back as I smoked,
drank whatever,
found the right audio:

stimulation
of the creative outlet.

I’m so full I could explode
or collapse,
or both: could go,
I don’t know:

maybe stellar.
Supernova.

All from this particular pressure,
the question of my life:
which path leads to the best outcome?
I await, but my eyes

always turn inward,
towards myself,

and I get nothing
but more elaborate questions
amidst the fertile horror,

so, yeah, feed by bleeding.

I don’t know what the fuck else
to do with them,
with it,
or myself…

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