My body fell apart today.
My legs ran off.
My arms flapped away only to drop down when my hands fled towards their own
liberation from the tyranny of elbows.
Little by little everything dislodged itself.
Even my eyes popped and rolled off into the world of the seen.
My skin tented itself in a questionable position I would never put myself in.
My guts romanced my brain to join them in a game of truth or dare.
My nose ran up my ass since my foot remarried her leg.
Surprisingly, the only part of me that stayed was the ash of my past.
Haunting me, mocking me, creating a silhouette of me.
I tried to blow them away, scatter the ash that once burned me bright.
But I don’t have lungs; the ebony addicts revolted years ago and joined the cinder movement.
So I was just empty- a collection of missing pieces.
I became a fragment within time, vaporized into a distortion of memories of sorts.
How was I going to pull myself together when I didn’t want those pieces anymore?
I enjoyed the mist I was destroyed into.
I enjoyed not being.
So I wondered endlessly, I was walking without legs.
Thinking without a brain full of conditions and lessons and memories and experiences and lectures but I was full of knowledge. I grabbed the air around me and flung myself into the sky and spin my pinky finger like a propeller engine towards the earth where I sank deep deep within the bliss of gunk and the birth of decay. i was everything and everything was me…everything was my chest and lungs which I used to yell-"the end of identity approaches us so grab hold of your fleeting selves for your never to be remembered or valued or known by anything or anyone."