thus, with a kiss

there is a black hole in my chest, a titanium bullet in my heart, and a quicksand in my head. i am in a trance in which I am forced to confront the negative obscurities of life's lonesome voyages. there is a constancy: the raft of dysphoria, paralyzing my body and using it, as if life is a puppet show and I am the puppet. i am a facade with a malevolent puppeteer, controlling the actions that my faltering bones partake in. he knits my lips together with his soft wool yarn dipped in ombre blue dye. he builds a soft gray doll house to shelter me and leaves stainless steel bars to guard me. he adheres me to the crib that he constructed, so I will be taunted by his insidious laughter. he decorates my king-sized bed with the aroma of a thousand roses and convinces me of the hell-bound world beyond this desolate chamber. he tells me that the world is just a masquerade ball and to be pure, I must be devoid of all contact. he bombards and fills my inside with his animosity. my p...