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I’m Leaving You

Inside of the laundry place under the developing
with the refreshing odor of Tide detergent
on my fingers in the aromatic spring air
blowing in the undisplay screened window
obtaining cosmetic in each and everyworking day functions which includes carrying out
the laundry inside of a confined scenario
never publishing but currently being and being once more
though torture finals for yrs
and even a lot more many years I’m not existing
in opposition to you
here is easily named I’M LEAVING YOU

I climb back again down the cross
back up the partitions the place I’m driven
towards my confront and breasts
my acheful nose is throbbing
I climb out of the yellow satin Devil coffin
where I am choking on dry smoky air
you’ve been smoking cigarettes Marlboros in my coffin
I got you out I free of billed you
And you shut the lid on me
And I could not escape the suffocation
I own the base as I
incorporate been there all alengthy
it isn’t really ever submission
but an ascension on the cross
I climmattress back down to Hades
my residence
to obtain absent from you

I understood Lucifer in element
Throughout your mercisignificantly less challenging eyes
I was in your upper body nevertheless
in tranquil innocence
I dwelled as Christ when it grew to become

also much
I escaped as a female Christ at occasions
a boy Christ
insisting the one-time crucifying
be an quick launch
It is entirely ever LEAVING TU

It is a horrible drama I painting
but the black Prince of Darkness mask I wear
my nakedness my little one’s human body my tenderness
are my real rage
You put me in open up air graves with no coffin
Merely dust or low cost plywood once
I comprehendd I experienced arrived at a new low in life
I had to dig my way up to get out

You ate evening meal although I lay in the world
I noticed the heat pleasant light-weights
that excluded me from the eating room
once more I felt black
while I starved outside the house under the chilly soil
I saw you sitting down uncaring taking in
and smiling
the Arab smile I utilised to like earlier
maybe you were happy
but it was the Holocaust for me
it truly is too late for a rescue,
pointless to say

It is a rolling wheelchair exit I acknowledge
traveling down the Sausalito freeway
to Santa Monica where the bitch was
in my route as I wheel out the door
you were position guiding her
locating the exact level the sunshine
in situation I could one day see
from inside a dim criminal offense alley trash pile
that he set me down on
sitting with the homeless black men
and ending my clean fish bones
from a very good fish sandwich with tobasco
I could have choked but did not
you hoped I might choke
but like the happy cat who still left
with satisfstep

The fresh scent of Tide on my apparel
And my burdened pores and skin-sjourneyped hands
The dryer sheet a rough tissue for my nose
The tears I have shed for the agonies
an sudden reward of deliberately wilted bouquets
Are a wracking BOUNDING pain in my head
an ever-tightening gold and silver steel band
probably copper perhaps American pewter
the hefty mesh of an armored Crusades fit
I am donning on my slim have toers
becoming a headache torture professional I had to compose
and studies a new corporate aspirin merchandise
for the aid of my migraine as well as yours
I ended the pain by strolling away

Nonetheless the fresh freshness lifts me up on to the unfound highway
Without having credit score for my work last year
ahead of this year’s hypnosis paralyzed me
A dropped real truth by way of pressured walk excusions in the open air
It was a psychological establishment and you pushed the wheelchair
as the admitting medical doctor
As I depart you once more it’s going to not issue
how a lot of times I have attempted
even though it seems to be like a life-style
to leave you
since as I roll out the door

They knocked me off the ascension
they pushed me off the elevator ramp as I rolled by
the motherfuckers sitting in my wheelchair
I screeched like a snowy wstrikee owl
flying through the roof as both the satan
a witch or a saint I am not positive
to this day if I was saintly or not
as I flew off the cross with rage
yet yet another time on the uphill road to my
independent victory and my independent action (IA)
the WPA is still the work technique of my autonomy

anytime I tried to start
you threw me out of the 3-ring circus again
it was my only home other than the coffin
I was homeless
I had to pick early in between a jail or a coffin
I selected the coffin under duress
people were never my real choices
You pushed on me another white straw hat
and a matching striped jacket
a whipped existence you explained I had gained
Boy, they all informed me to at the very least
neglect the straw hat
because I told them I required the jacket

my own conscience was conversing
an insect apparition
my attendees said it was the damned coat I was wearing
to take the nazi image off my chest
once and for all as
it is a branding iron

slipping on the ramp they had set out to trip me
standing like an apparition by my vacant wheelchair
I flew off the cross with a fluent rage
it was a good come to experience as
I tipped the sands of time in the hourglass
for another hour to take an surplus breath
I am alive not lifeless and strolling through
the abandoned saloon doors
into a caboveed wagon reality
risk-free from the dry dusty sandstorm
obscuring your venom
like a rattlesnake shut my throat

Not a pyhrric victory this time close to
The arid red saloon doors I photographed
As a set up in Santa Fe were in the porno online video
I once owned documenting my loss of life
The swinging gate was not really a door
once again you hit me as I entered the action
another time and called it caring even making use of
the term Enjoy
I was never a slave
You only owned the empty air between your violent hands
The dirt in your pockets the lint on your PC screen
was put there by me the present abused witch

I am the air I am the wind I fly like a missing Sabbath
I am the air I am the wind I fly like Satan
I fly like Jesus I fly like a Brahmin
I fly like Buddha I fly like Mohammed
I fly like a Sufi journey algeared up taken
I am the air I am the wind the holy witch wind
I fly like Hitler like Hitler’s daughter

I am a wind tunnel with leaves flying upward
I ascend back down and up again
through the righteous material
of my own almost-destroyed coat by you
it’s winter season and I need it
it was a witch wind that blew my hat to me
even so, to get away from you I will be Jesus again
what a last choice it is to regain up
on the crucifix again
it seems to be a way of life to leave you
I can’t get one thing accomplished because

I am a minutiae, I am a militia, a cognizant road
Not a spiritualist
not a quietly spoken or even a very loud nun
I am a black patch on a sailor’s eye hiding intent
I steal the thefts you stole from me back for me
to sustain myself
I steal from you as you stole my cash
I steal every thing I own from you
with delight not fret but backup

Cigarette burns on my arms
therapeutic through my large persistence level
using a pain evaluate you took just lately
It was not Jesus but ME it was ALWAYS ME
residing through the burns
standing with a immediately back
a relaxed voice and a ready smile
I was a quite girl with burns
It wasn’t Jesus but ME
He walked off the cross with me that day
I retained his hand
I requires this to the Justice Courtroom of the Universe
for what you have done to me these days

You negated my existence
I could not walk out of the door
ever with no you beside me
all together through my deranged
childhood I have had to resolve
humanity’s complications through your problems
Each and every time I had a friend, one friend
for even one instant
you criticized me for having
a foundation of assist
I am leaving you, the Nazi
You appeared at me as if I were benefit
A billion $$ bucks $$ – and I was
I knew you’d get rid of me to keep me
Even though I was tied up
I came for free plus some
To get out of there

The veils you have wrapped around my face
are promontory mound scarves
often revealing the concealed existence of digital cameras
but I always knew the photographer for your porno
he said that you are truthfully keeping
my by now desecrated camera
every time I thought of you
I threw the veils down
wrapped them wadded up the cheap
polyester fabric into an unattractive rolled ball
I spat on the veiled ball hurling the light
into the encompassed replicate
a disappearing symbol of an unmarked grave
you pushed me up against that wailing wall

I’m back in the coffin
peering out from the brown dirt on my skin again
listening for creaking seems around the lid
My stolen home is my fulcrum point
when was my body a temple like in the Bible
just once?
I’m slicing him off because
I am not a Barbie Doll beauty without a brain
He can look at what he previously stole
not at me
I am standing up in a rigorous box
a black box a white boxed Rubik’s dice
I was forced to solve in relocating cabs
My neck hurts and I know
I am in the cheap plywood coffin you purchased me
One particular for a longer time I live in the everlasting darkness
of the deep nicht arab evening
I search for the waning light rising
up like an ant
on a minimalist journey
I’m climbing off the ant farm
through the silted sifted soil
of Europe

I am back in the magma main again
climbing up Mt. Vesuvius as a cockroach
with a black ash streak mark on my brow
from the occult I knew through sacrifice
I was the ritual torture target becoming
the victorious fowl dancer
and a from time to time satanic interpreter
Back again again hunting out of the hole
My hole – it my complete tender respiratory
living whole soul – My Soul (w)hole

I was living in a hatred home
because you were living there
until finally recently you were holding me hostage
Your raging cold constant hatred of me
my vagina my back and my front
my whole breathing tune
a typeer loving child now a vigilant female
with a chilled reply and song repertoire
I was a girl you never witnessed my have faith in
Due to the fact nothing at all ever alterations
I was more than the small Nazi girl all along

You tried to generate me a pimp
and absolutely everyone’s whore on the closed circuit TV
with concealed internet and satellite spycams
it was a visible virtual rape while
I had to be both God and a prostitute
to fulfill you the white man
even though you never talked to me
I had to steal my own thoughts from me
while believing I was you, the pimp,
not me at all
I was negated and wearing your name as my identification
always reporting my transgressions
to you the white magic formula law enforcement
while you manufactured me shell out illegally
I cracked the hypnosis Da Vinci code

I thank God I do not know you any more
I never did know you because
you only forced me with brutality
to say I knew you when I don’t
publicly you said I am not a citizen and are not able to act
then you said I am a slave or a servant-slave
what the hell is that?
a new group for my position as a woman?
as I clean the mirror in our home
I realize what you indicatet and toss the rag down
even the paper towels I throw them on the ground
putting my blue Windex spray area cleaner
away permanently even though it is new
and I walk away from our unmade bed

I will redefine the ceiling as I stand over you
I will redefine the ceiling as the floor while
I dance a spinning whirling dervish dance
a gorgeous little girl’s wild dance
on top of your head
You will not know I am alive
EVEN THOUGH I stand outside your dungeon
with the keys
You won’t hear from me in the potential because I am leaving you.

I am back in the front back in the center
of your crappy car sitting in the backseat
not thankful at all why should I be grateful?
Grateful for what?
it was all improper and I knew it was all wrong
Waiting around for the dryer cycle to total
I meticulously independent your clothes from mine
because they’ve leprosy and even worse
specifically the undies

Placing them neatly in your dresser drawer
the top drawer, sure
I seize my unexpected emergency funds and
I walk out the door
Towards manna towards heaven toward mecca
Toward Bethlehem
Toward the closest hamburger place
To plan my escape from MY home
which these times is always your jail
walking with abandon and confidence
down the independence road
I don’t conclude to brush my hair
or trouble with lip gloss
smiling in the mirror

it’s a woman thing
it’s a coronary heart thing
it’s in my vagina that you
will never know
it’s my holy space
and you are going to never know it

I am the Pope now as I leave you
you threw the rocks too hard
at me the girl standing on the wall
you were a man, not a boy
and the rocks were your brutal fists
your distressing raging slaps
you existed for meanness
you were a massive terrifying rigid form
following to me ready to hit me again
as I lay in your cold cold bed
I left you early – for the duration of the during
the encountering breaths I take
I left you already!
but you didn’t know or care because it was
never my bed only yours

I had no room to breathe and I slipped
out from between the sheets early
one early morning as you slept
a deep satisfied rest
I looked carefully
at your no-guilt icy face
I never went back to caring as
which is how you caught me
caring for you lying in your bed
trapped between your legs you are
a mean man with truly mean hands
AND for this cause

You poured a loam fertilizer product
on what’s now international soil in our backyard
I bought it in Hechingers for a family members backyard garden
You didn’t wish
Placing me in the cheap coffin again
you said I am going to be back
I didn’t be reluctant even so and climbed out
of the coffin buried under a foreign place
I never knew as our home before
without my identity intact as you stole it
everyday through violence expressed toward me
my skin and my occasionaly delicate woman’s soul
even kid’s soul at times

You were the doctor in a white mask
at the opening to the grave
exhuming tilling the soil almost packed down over me
supplying to free me from bondage
through a conscript program
as some variety of welfare draftee
It is euthanasia you said Provider
or nothing less than suicide
introducing “You’ve a fixation on death”
and you put me in the medical center again
“one more time we are going to do this”
you remarked casually
as a frigid stranger once more
negating my will nonetheless
hanging terror in my heart
and disgust that always prevails
when I need you to come through
for me in a crisis
you simply never do

You made me feel like a servant
while you were in my body
a maid in hypnosis
that I am not
with a leash around my neck
hopelessly pursuing you
into ignominy and eventual death
against my will and
not able to speak with silent screams
I left with my spirit
into acquainted terrain
not as an insect again

It is the abstruse point of watch
Nothing at all you gave me was yours
to give
I already own everything
Incorporating my entire body
I own my face and
my expressions on my face
you couldn’t give me anything
let on your own take anything away
this is not said by me
it is said by Jesus
I may sound wonderful but I
am not nice relating to this
for fucking me over
just once
I am leaving you

There is certainly no final voiceover
No voice overlay
It was your voice
drowning me in my life
Just my voice
Just mine
It is always my voice
I speak with
It is mine only
It is finally my beautiful voice
I hear
And it always was
It truly is all mine.
My voice is me.
I’m being it for
the future
for my dad
for my unborn child
perhaps never born
because I lost my voice once
or more than 2 times
and because I want to still
feel in God
for my peace of head
and simply for myself
I am leaving you
I have already left you
yesterday for the ugly bruises
on my beautiful body
that I can still see and feel
I don’t stay tied up for long
I had to walk out of my body
to leave you
Here is goodbye.

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