And again I’m so damn selfish;
 how could I do this to her? how did it happen? I’ve damned another pristine image; 
 torn away the beautiful paint to reveal the scars and bruises of rape; 
 why does this affect me? I feel nothing but nothing;
 nothing nothing nothing nothing; if you say it—- or even just think it—- enough times, it becomes absurd, it becomes nothing;
 nothing becomes nothing;                                                                                                                             ls t
 I feel nothing.                                                                                                                                     e   e                     
                                                                                                                                                    e    a     
                                                                                                                                        i          h    r        
                                                                                                                                      s  v        w    i           
from my cloud I could just stare down, watch her forever;                                                                            s   e      e     n           
guard her forever,                                                                                                                 e   l      h     g           
I know not if I can be with her I think she’s left me for leaving her alone,                                                      r   y      t        thr        
although I’m holding her hand its cold and I’m cold though not feeling any rain,                                                 g                       o    
not staring at anything just staring at my feet,                                                                       n        o    f      r,           u           
the road,                                                                                                            i   n     r      a    e       rae   g 
the thin road;                                                                                                      p     i   p      s      t     t     h
                                                                    Nothing.                                       s      n           t     s     h   
the gutter draws me in and I know that if I follow it forever I will find the truth;                                      g  s        e      a     
                                                                                                                 s          l          r    f     t       s               
                                                                                                                e       t  e            and       r     d  t          
no I’ve found it, she said it. The truth hurts and now I’m bleeding and dying. Raped                           n       h  e                        e   n    o      
                                                                                                              i       e  h                          e a    n       
 If nothing could feel it would feel me, it would feel me whimpering inside its rumbling belly;              g          w                                 e 
 starved with consumption, the great black train running on pure midnight fuel;                             n                                                                                                                                 
 whistles vomiting flame into the volley of rain drops, the sky bleeding from the roar of the engines, the e                                                                                                                                                                                                                
 a moth-like creature devoid of sensory perception relying only on nerve impulses;                                                                        g
 thoughtless;                                                                                                                                            o               
 a gargantuan bastard;                                                                                                                                                             
 son of pure darkness;                                                                                                                                   g                         
 son of nothing;                                                                                                   page                                   o                   
 father of fear;                                                                                                       six.                                                  
 I fear its hold on me I fear the force it presses on my body, forcing me lower and lower into the mud;                                                   g                                                                                                          
 there is no mud just an ever-increasing puddle, my mind slipping and drowning in it, passersby ignore me;                                               o                                                                                                             
 and she walks in silence.                                                                                                                                                            
                                                                                                                                                       i      
  I don’t know what to say                                                                                                                           p t       
  my mind is racing with an infinite assortment of thoughts ranging from  d                                                                         u          
                                                                            e                                                                       m           
  I’m awake but dreaming an awful black m ss t                               p                                                                      p            
                                         e    a                               r                                                                      s             
  keeps it alive;                              n                              e                                                                        a            
  keeps everything outside, the dust is        g                               s                                                                       n           
                           just dust is       l                               s                                    ba                                 d          
                           just dust...      e                                 i                                 d   s
                                             d                                   o      alcoh                   n     eb                              p        
  why did those three words pierce             i                                   n  o      o                 a        a                             u       
                            and rape me?       n                                     t        l t       ra ish           ll.                         m      
                       is that possible?         black                                           o horse  d                 .                       p     
  to vicariously experience years of                  leaves,                                                              .                       s,    
therapy,                                                     a raggedy black blanket                                       .                                                           
depression,                                                                  covered in black dust,                         still words elude me,  mindless;             
torment, torment,                                                        the blanket keeps the dream                        or I elude them,                                
dementia,          o  n                                                                             warm;                   eluding her,                                
fra            t i                                                                                                          eluding the truth                               
    g      t  a                                                                                                             but dwelling                                 
       men              creation is the ripple that spreads when the right stone hits water;                                perpetually in its wake;                                
                                                                   how big are the splashes?                                                                                                                                      
                                                                      how big is the radius?                                                                                                                                                               
                                    how far will this reach and will I ever reach her again?                                                                                                                                     
                                           will she forgive me for what I did and didn’t do?                            on nothing;                                                                                                            
                                                                                                                        on the drunks in the street,                                     
I’m so sorry, I’m so selfish, I’m in so much pain that I can’t stop shaking, the rain drops drip,                       on the houses                                                                                                                                       
                                                                                  drip drop drips the rain on me on her on the windows                                                              

I imagine being so high up in the clouds, above the rain, just in darkness,  just something like it,             the sick sick people of the world;                                                                                                                                                               
                                          above tears,    not quite heaven,  outside the prying eyes of sickness,                                                                                                                
                                                                                                                                                             
what drives someone to do such fucked up things?