A Goddamned Messianic Tragedy of the Heart

O, you were always my messiah.

The collapse of will and fate; that the knowing flame in our eyes foresaw the descent, the demise -- foresaw this in that our very knowledge was birthed of itself. A goddamned messianic tragedy of the heart. That despite all the animal magnetism, the enchantment, the inevitability, and desire -- that despite will and fate -- we, two ships, sailed valiantly onward in the night... sailed silently, passing, and drifting on immaculately, never to pass by again. Never to touch.

When the mind, the microcosmos, the world, and the cosmos all pled otherwise.

Self-denial turned denial toward you. So consumed. Two selves meant to be entwined, such that one self is the other. And so to self-sacrifice is to betray.

Self-denial turned denial toward you.

And so, I ran. From myself [from you]. Tore myself away, anguish, agony, love. And when I died, because I did, because a self cannot be torn in half, you resurrected me.

O, you were always my messiah -- the messiah of my heart... my lifeblood, my cherished, fallible, mortal, living, pulsing messiah.

I breathe you, as though you pump the bellows of my soul. Your beauty sustains me, ever enamored. The more I love you, the more I am resurrected; the more your messianic stare pierces me sorely, the more the sweet joins the bitter. The beauty I see in you I see in myself. The beauty in you is the beauty in me.
Selfless self love.

And though I stand alone, my lone self is all I need because you live on in me.

Bio

Call me Dorothea [it's one of my many names]. I have been kicked out of every high school I have ever attended... sometimes voluntarily [getmethefuckawayfromthosepreps], sometimes absurdly unfairly. Somehow made it into college, & incidentally attended Cambridge last summer. My IQ is in the genius range, but what the fuck is an IQ but a westernized capitalist system of quantification, standardization, & denigration of human perception, each of which holds a microcosmic universe unto itself. I got dem ol' kosmic blues again, mama, when it comes to playing slide, or blues harp, or piano; music infests my bones; & someday, you'll see my name in lights. Music calls to me... and it follows that one reckless, buckwild, rock star summer in my youth I took 50 hits of LSD [& tripped & blacked out for months on end, motherfucker; come to consciousness with no memory of where you were or for hong long or why, fight club style]. Have been diagnosed a beautifully large amount of disorders, including the oh-so famous & glamourous bipolar disorder among others. & Of course, it's all fucking bullshit -- just another one of those dumbass American trends. Stabilization is not my calling... Instability is a forte, but not a well-recognised or appreciated one... I narrowly lived through my turbulent, risen-hell, fucked up childhood. However, I am related to the Reverend Horton Heat, which could damn near compensate for the apocalypse. Ran away from home; plan on becoming an expatriate, already have been a few times. Wanderluster. I am self-destructive, self-constructive, self-loathing, self-righteous, repetitive, cynical, idealistic, repetitive, misanthropic, self-conscious, self-unconscious, agnostic, pantheistic, hypocritical, contradictory, disparate, dissociative, restless, tumultuous, brilliant [what?], absurd, & fucking ... just a girl. Too many people in too many places, I'm schismed.