F***ed Up
1.
There's the lick and burn of copper and rust
in my cheek
and on my tongue.
It bleeds when I talk.
How appropriate.
II.
The surgery has made me a bitter man,
words have caused me to realize that.
The swelling apparently made me a monster,
but I already knew that
from you.
"I must be a bloody mess."
I remember gurgling to the nurse,
laid out hard, awake but not, numb and blank in my empty space.
"Oh no, of course not," she whispered
as she wiped the crimson from my neck and face.
Bloody mess.
Good summation.
Alone.
So alone.
At least we're alone.
Three.
My mother, saint that she is,
insisted on taking care of the little cousins today.
They came in and saw me at my desk
and as I turned to face them
they simply ran away.
The inner turmoil has bubbled to the surface.
The conflict has become the man.
I can't make out just who or what I've become.
I don't know who or what I am.
Can I change this? Please?
There's a bit of the dead in me now,
(as if there wasn't already)
The bone of a dead man fills the gap.
"I had to use more than I expected to fill the hole."
The doctor said it happily, gaily, as if I was lucky to have a little extra cadaver inside me.
[The ghost comes back into my mind again.]
Well, thank you, Doc.
[And he's smiling.]
Thank you very fucking much.
iiii.
I stare intently at a mirror.
One.
Rmm.
It hurts to lift my lip.
One, two.
Rmmrgh. Ah.
The bastard is stubborn and filled with pus.
One two three four.
Four stitches. Hrgh.
The pain is overwhelming. My face is not meant to be touched.
So none of them are doing their jobs.
V.
I haven't dreamt in years.
Every time I close my eyes, it's black,
a soup of inky nothingness
for me to butterfly, breast stroke,
tread water in when I'm asleep and gone.
Last night, I had a dream.
I was punching myself in my face,
tearing at the gaseous lump on my side,
bashing the virulent pus and corrupted blood and dead people away from me as a voice sings,
I want this gone, I need this dead, I can't stand this many things in my head.
And all around me in the dark is a chorus chanting, yelling, screaming:
The old king is dead!
Long live the king!
I think the old king was normalcy.
Long live the king!
This new one must be inadequacy.
The old king is dead!
Well, then.
Long live the king!
Long live the king.
- Geist's blog
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Edited.
Edited.
-Geist
abcd
Is this true? If it is, I'm really sorry. I really like the noise sounds. The rmmgh and the hrgh. That looks ... odd out of context.
Also what you did with your numbers it looks like your still floating a little on the happy meds. After my mom had her wisdom teeth out, my grandma had to hire a baby-sitter for her because she was so whacked out. and she was twenty two.
You use great adjectives, by the way.
Thank you. Indeed, it is
Thank you.
Indeed, it is true.
It's meant to be scattered, so I decided to change up the numbers.
-Geist
Man. What happened?
Man. What happened?
Well, my father's side of
Well, my father's side of the family has this trait where the top left canine tooth refuses to come down, even after the baby tooth pops out.
At first, the doctors suggested that I get braces that I didn't need and try to pull the tooth down with a chain.
A year later, the entire top row of my teeth had collapsed in on the opening left by the canine, which wouldn't budge.
So I had braces for another year to simply sort out my top jaw, and now, since their idea screwed up, the orthodontists are bowing to our suggestions and getting the bastard taken out, putting in a bone graft, and then giving me an implant.
I hate dentistry now.
-Geist
!
Sounds exceedingly painful.
Sometimes the medical profession is just too full of itself.
I have that undescended tooth as well, and I narrowly escaped the braces...
*shudders*
___________________________________
"It's either broken or it's French."
That sounds violent and
That sounds violent and bloody!
gosh- an implant- that is immensely creepy.
At least it gives you something to write about!
hope you feel fine
:)SnowStars
Question: When I can talk
Question:
When I can talk again, would you guys like this in podcast form?
-Geist
Geist, I don't think anyone
Geist, I don't think anyone would ever not want something of yours in a podcast. You're quite an expert when it comes to recording.
Hope you feel better soon.
YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY. that
YES!!!!
ABSOLUTELY.
that would be fantastiC!
I hope you regain your powers of speech soon.
I feel your pain...
...Can't say I had the exact same thing, but certainly experienced something as nasty. I'm with you. Try clove oil when you can. As in Marathon Man. It works.
gg