self-destructive; instructive

"I think you are waiting to self-combust. That way you could start fresh", read the text message, late into my binge. I was looking for beauty all around me. I found it almost everywhere, in everything I had, and everything I did not have.

I knew how the hours would soon run and sigh, would reveal...the truth? the ugliness? Is that the truth?

"I think you are waiting to self-combust. That way you could start fresh", read the text message. I had on my new eyes, my new eyes, old and melting, weary with passion. my heart in my mouth, blossoming like lilies, weeping, soothed by its own utterances, knowing, unknowing..

and my mind, that tragic man in his suit, traitorous and true, left his post to say
and what of tomorrow
and what of tomorrow...?
"I have gathered up my little sticks
to burn this fire, tonight", I retorted,
bold as liquid

now, on the down
i knew, i knew, i chose, of course
I am waiting to self-combust
i will start fresh
not even i will know my name

shanti shanti shanti