Where goes Form when Function leaves it behind?
In hope I say, "It breathes, I don't think it dies"
My skeletal form, however, withers, wonders whither
Will it go when everything devourable is unavailable
Not enough of me, I am dispersed as a vapor though
Rarefy me for the sake of eating all that I know
Eat my dreams, serve them as an imperial banquet
Those dreams already have designs to infect me
Myxomatosis is a horrible business to suffer with
But pest control is essential, that I can't argue with
The sun's reach I am underneath, compiled belief
Vegetarian scripture, I don't even fucking miss her
I want to feel less gone. I want to feel more here.
Overcome by wanderlust out of darkened senses of fear
Wish things upon me otherwise too hard to imagine
The color in my mind's eye's going all out of fashion
I am a pest and nothing and everything to at least
Somebody who wants to preserve a taxidermy of this
A body with a metabolic deathwish which targets itself
Divinities of Form and Function, save me from destiny
It collapses in on itself. It carries itself back
From the grave. I am ill. I am fading. Still I hunger.
Basic and essential, furthermore perfectly accessible
How must I even end this series of pseudocouplets?

THIS IS MY FAITH, NOTHING SHORT OF DISGRACE
THIS IS MY BODY, ALREADY SHORT OF WORKING
TAKE THE MEAT OFF MY BONES, FEED ON MY FACE
THIS IS ALREADY TOO FAR FROM YOUR PLACE
ORDER REDUCTION, DENY MY MARTYR'S ASSUMPTION
GIVE ME SOMETHING, SOMETHING FAR TOO SAFE
INFINITIVE OBJECTIVE, GOT A BAG FULL OF NOTHING
WHY'D I DO THIS, WERE I TO HAVE BEEN SANE?

"To come too close to us is to alienate your fear
And nullify the ruined looks or break up all those years
I'll drop the iambs, I have a serious offer for you
Punish yourself less; rather, let me do it for you"

Take me up for another hour of disempowered grievings like these
Just kidding, this'll only be about fifty minutes when it's complete
Symptoms: facial swelling, high body temperature, unpredictably dying
No, I do not suffer, I'm deluded, but I want something superior
"Come closer to me, I just want to hear the sound of her guts
Being rearranged." But I'm skeptical of all you choose to enunciate
You take too much joy, you take too much pride, in extending so far
Into the sky, but not even horizontally. Leave me alone here to think.

By the syntax of a bright translucent mind, through the force of bodies in motion
Via saccharine constructions and ventures beyond half-eternal graves it shifts
Build a world, says the true angel. Construct meaning, spoke reality's insides.
So, make increasingly clear, I shall, the grotesqueness of this emaciated predicament
While my shadow fails to cast against the looming glimmer of a shimmering castle
Shivering against windowsills, will the intestinal rope guide me to the citadel?
Deprivation and lack define this lacking life, I must accept, I must accept, dammit
Am I not to escape, I see a dark alternative, the turn to horrid Eucharistic mysticism
Anchoress, anchored idle, here for a while but not long enough to fatten back up
Subcutaneous injection and Focalin, this ahistorical trek through another world
Destroys fate, discipline does, but I feel my fate is too real for a simple surgery
Collapse of the arteries, blood's multidirectionality demonstrated, exsanguinate
It will fail, plastic will, a plastic will is the only one which construes destiny
Yet I deceive myself, my faith misplaced, piety streams all down my empty face
I become full once more, with the tints having overshadowed the absence of my shade
Keep me in a cave and feed me, to be shown to the world anew unequivocally I agree

Your high-fantasy world is flanked by gateways of ketamine
Lost in pseudoiridescent false opal, trapped in aquamarine
Arts and crafts movement, cannot cope with this uselessness
Transformation, lifesaver, transfiguration, I'll do it later
We need a new Earth for monsters like me, a daunting plea
No horizon can contain your ever-expansive fuckoff vision
I need a body you can't see, a body that extends all ways
Always wanting something else beyond what already lurked
Whatever was left over I cannot see when I attempt to look
The ground shook, the same devices govern me over and over
Anti-Oedipus as a cover, I don't need another one like that
I don't wanna be whoever I used to be, just save me from that
This body can implode and expand outwards with boiling muscles
All crimson in the ruins of a corpse and a dissociated mind
That moves between bodies, haunting undetected by psychiatrics
Visceral echolocation of an uneven place in the shattered skull
Where the bats invade your chest and you are made ready to end
Yourself, and the flesh torn from your throat is stuffed back
Into the hollow cavity. I don't bother with this thing anymore
So make it instantaneous. I don't want to do this shit anymore
Harmful, the narrow slits of razorblade carved into arm's bark
Pruned back to a place whence it cannot regrow to be known
I have forgotten that line of scars in their dark procession
So make my body something better than a mind's possession

Congested, can't even feel my mouth against the phlegm
All this shit just makes me wish I never knew him
Why is he here, why the impossibility of to redact him?
I don't want to know anymore, does he want my reaction?
I say yes, I say I should, I say I can't deny and I would
Just bring a halt to the suffering had I thought it through
Bunny rabbit fur coating this corpus, may I be born anew
Transmutation, trans mundos, re-encounter me next time
Close up the Pacific, no more peace in this divided heart
I'm so incoherent, can't tell you in disgust what I want
So what I do is simply tell him what I want, the man
A man daring dictate these processes philosophically
I just want to make my exit from his clutches while I
Have a chance, for I'd rather not dance, rather not die
The sweat on my skin governs too many clauses of horror
Each droplet subsumed into growing hairs, morphing face

In this city, you will always be told you are in a different city
From the one in which you stand. Its name must be deduced. Is it?
Do we have any chances to reestablish ourselves in spaces so
Decisively lacking identification? My body, it's changing again...
Purple hearts on the face, fur whiter than sunbleached vision
Ears sprouting from my head to by and large replace my prior
Means of hearing. Does this mean my prior languages are gone?
No, the mouth is a compromise in speech's favor. I am her.
I, Vivian, will be the bearer of nextness, enumerating changes
Imperial, divine, changing courses with each passing second
Loss for the sake of loss, grief for the sake of grief, say...
Will my body be torn apart just the same way it was before?

City of Myself, I approach you, not ready for the forthcoming
The following, already too much, is a difficult recollection
For nothing stops me from divulging too much detail except I
Lago, Lago, where could be Lago, amidst every other Lago
Here I am, having been told seeing late-childhood photos
In my early adolescence portraying me alongside a spitting
Image of some fuckups who would near-ruin this entire life
Rife with strife and rifling the borderline not-fineness of it
Shit, if I could see him again, collective him, many hims
I would punch him, this masculine machine, all at fucking once
And I'd do it in the face, hard in the face, but I find myself
Like this! I find myself surrounded by myself with no return!
Woe upon all these people who do not understand this form!
They do not recognize the me of those photographs nor any
'Us'es who might've had a life to live from thereon out
Which was so huge and exciting by comparison to microtheatrical
Shenanigans! Yet nowadays this life is so immense that I cannot
Complain a bit, but they wander, these images of me, us, them
And I have no escape, they ogle at and they profane the rabbit
Losers, all of you, losers who will blow up in a matter of
Minutes, seconds, milliseconds, when I evacuate myself alone
And there will only be dust left in the place of these pasts
But little children running round with bowlcuts are not pests
I wish all these selves were nurtured rather than tortured.

I don't know how to end this, but I lack an option to undo
I can only wish that I could come all the way back to you.