Toxic

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Iambic Beats

4:47

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The dopamine crashes
On the cortical shore
Of my homeland where reason clashes
With need, logic fights
With desire
Pulling like a rabid dog bound by chains
I know I shouldn't love you
Shouldn't see you smell you taste you
Feel you
In the crevices of every breath
But I do so help me
God I do

What poison are you?
What absolute and utter ecstasy, this high
Of feeling like the world was created just for me, like
The universe exploded
Emanating from a single point, one
Dimension with the singular purpose of writing
Out my name in stars
Nebular clouds of ink spilling forth
As it exploded into planets and asteroids and, yes
Leaving black holes as a portent
To remind us that it can't all be stars

But I didn't listen
I didn't listen and now
The secrets of everything are scrawled across my skin like scars
From scalding water, reminders of melted flesh
Tattoos that fade into each other and I can't read them anymore
What is ink and what is stardust, can you tell me the difference?

No, you can't
Because you're the ghostwriter, busy weaving
The tall tale into my bones
The one that ends with me being happy and complete
Wanted
Understood
But it's just fiction, and fiction is
The cry from the empty mouth
That blasphemy once kissed
Take your needle and ink of honey
And sell your dopamine fix in the next town, run
Your fingers along
Someone else's spine
Tell anyone but me
That they're worthwhile to love and dance with
Them among the stars to the waltz of lo-fi cosmic background
And gravitational waves
That translate my tachycardic pleas
Into real words that anyone can hear

But most of all, no matter what
Never forget what Orion said as he hung his belt
By the door, when he knew
That hunting was wrong after all
Don't you remember?
He told us of the satyr who caught an arrow to the heart
And lay bleating and bleeding, spilling
Secrets of God all over Orion's shrinking hands
And the hunter just sat and cried, he
Said he couldn't tell what was blood and what was truth, he
Told us never, but never to kill each other again
But here's the real secret behind those words
Killing is the same as loving, he whispered at last
And none of us will make it out alive

But it's just poetry, you said
It's not as though it's the truth
And I told you that there's nothing more
True ever thought or written than the blood of bards
And that satyr was right
No death could be sweeter than love
And now I know everything
All the subtext and the context written in the contrails

So please, stop allowing me to breathe you in
Because as soon as you sink behind the rings of Saturn
I'm just a satyr myself, hunted
Until my two halves are ripped apart into fur and flesh
But that dopamine teases like raw steak
And the hound in me pulls at that chain for more

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