Poison.

There are certain thing that you can do to avoid it but it hunts. Poison knows you better than you know yourself.

These are dangerous waters and traitorous tides. No lifeguard on duty.

It smells fear and exhaustion and licks its greedy chops.Drools.Like calls to like over moon dappled oceans and lines that will never be broken. So,naturally, I try and think like a ninja.( Duh,of course)  As part of their daily training they would ingest a single drop of poison.After a time it ceased to make them ill so they would increase the dose. Immunity dig?

I have a point here,stick with me….

Ninjas ,like me, tend to get fucked with alot.Everyone always trying to destroy you up.Its tiring as all get out.The worst one of all? Usually a nemesis.The most primo version of a nemesis unfortunately is the someone that you loved.Which,can I just tell you,is the absolute fucking pits.Usually the ninja that once had your back.You both worshiped Bruce Lee,you used to see who could stand on their head for the longest,hot copper pots filled with boiling oil carried between you forearms..Ahhh,before the fall….you drift of into memories while the hatchet faced chef  in front of you artistically constructs your dinner on a long black dish reflective as an oil slick.

Its been a long day,”People don’t want to pay for quality anymore” you sigh.  Thinking of the drug addled trutifaian from San Dimas that is at present hogtied in your trunk to be delivered home to the  thoroughly fed up parental units and discreetly shunted into rehab for the remainder of the summer.Ten Crisp yards for your effort. “You tell me!” harrumphs the chef gently pacing artfully coiled mounds of sashimi before you.”Nobody appreciate nothing no more! ” You nod slowly in tired agreeance and hand him a shaky smile

“Arrigato”

“You very welcome” he says with a slight bow.

You could just cry.

Anyway.Your sitting down to eat your sushi after a hard day of fucking people up.The wasabi hot and melding graciously with the salt of the soy and yellow fin tuna.You stretch and crack you neck.Take a sip of miso soup.Think about retiring to the Canary islands and staring a school for assassins when….

“Ha!” from behind the kitchen door springs your nemesis.

You yawn.

He starts gibbering waiving a small bottle of arsenic,half full.The chef runs for it.

“”Yeah yeah” you say and snatching the bottle from his hand ,place the evil little bottle to you lips and you skoal the rest.Burp and smile.

The color drains from his face as he leaps over the table and runs out the door hot on the heels of the chef..The blue and white curtain flutters in their wake.You reach over and turn the hotplate off. Safety first.Leaving a hefty tip anchored under the empty arsenic bottle you make your way past the toilets and out through the busy kitchen like a shadow to your 71′ Dodge Challenger parked in the back ally.

Perfect waste of a good meal.

Immunity. Is that what one must aim for? I guess it is.Except poison comes in all shapes and forms. In my case it’s words.Your words.In my case its you. Fragile letters full of fake promises that got my hopes up once again squirming under my perimeter on their scaly bellies.I go back and eat the bitter things that were said to me,A foul mouth full at a time…the kinder things hurt even more.Love does not kill,hope does….

I should get my fucking head checked.

Words,how could I of all people ever become immune to the words that came from the asshole love of my life?

Maybe,just maybe,then I wont get hurt by them again.

Or maybe it will finally kill me.

Cant remember who said it but the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Other poison’s.Photographs,love letters,your new hole,lost time,memories,loss…..

What a shitty shopping list that is.

Yet another problem with poison is that one tend not to learn.

Do it once.

“Ew! I feel terrible but this has gotta get better right?”

(That,by the way,is an exert from my “How to make a dumb junkie “checklist .)

Then it defines you.It owns you.

( I could never be immune to you. And that is what scares me)

You are better at poison management than most.See,my Jones is specific.It is for you and you alone.You? You can pick up any strain and get your head right.Didn’t think that a teener of hatchet faced peroxide blond with a corpse like a starved 8 year old boy would be your hit du jour but what the fuck do I know? I assumed that in my wake you would go for quality.

Silly Bunny me.

I was hoping that you would fall for a stone cold fox.Then at least I would have lost out to someone better than me. I never thought that you would do a reconnaissance to the bottom of the barrel.

Whats your jones? Trash?

And here was me almost believing again. I have got to be the biggest dumb-shit in the world. In fact I know I am.

Still in love with someone who ….well…….

Its the Easter long weekend.I am going to go and have it out with the rowing machine and other assorted equipment.Flesh is slowly melting,muscles re-defining. My latts flare like wings. My forearms granite.

(….i thought that i would see you again that i would have the guts that it really mattered to you but it does not…i am so dumb i still have all your numbers on my phone i still dream of your voice….when you are buried in one of her hot holes think of me…when you are sleeping in her bed driving her car using her cause golly that’s how you roll think of me….maybe its better this way you being with someone who doesn’t want the best for you that you don’t have to build a future with to work on it with…oh Narcissus how you twist it all up…..I would have no hesitation in beating her to a pulp while you watched…i said forever….)

I’m gonna go let my drop of poison do its thing.

And sleep…….