‘All of these MKUltra Kids’
—- to dress up this bedroom voice and kiss my own scar tissue, again and again. to taste the blood through another feeling of loneliness. all of these vein-throbbing pulses. this body like a quetiapine kid playing with pain. no sleep, no hunger, just epiphanies down the drain. just one more dosage upper. just one more homage to homeostasis. just another vision coming from within the brain, blinding lights in the retinas. and what is my biology besides a nucleus full of delusions? just another biopsy of god. this perpetual sickness that lingers in the dna like a broken helix. like something that forever needs to be fixed. a long game. a someone that wasn’t built to stay sane.
