witchalicious

undress me. [I am hanging up my clothes . . .] undress me. [putting the shirts and buttons and laces away . . .] undress me of these habitual lies. [undress me . . .] undress me. I’m alone in the city. ["together we cry . . ."] I can’t think. [and I wonder . . .] stranger things have happened. and undress me. undress me of perpetuity. undress the endlessness, peel off the cruel realities . . . he sleeps and sits and lies and my mind melts, undressing. I saw a strange thing on the way home from my way out; a cat. bleeding melting frozen unfrozen stiff . . . dead. and a stranger watched me from the balcony, watching me watch the cat. the cat in the box, probably his box; the stranger’s. I walked away quickly.
sometimes I wonder what lies ahead. sometimes I don’t. I wonder at people who purposefully destroy their lives and purposefully lose control when, in my life, I have had the opposite . . . I have had to struggle for my life and gain control. sometimes I get so angry at these people, but most of the time I don’t because it doesn’t matter to me, but it strikes me. also, if this is shoved in my face like a 10-day old sack of garbage, then I get angry. infiltrating my house, my home, my sacred space. that is a no-no.
tonight I’m going to undress. undress to the skin, feel the wind touch me and reach into my bitter heart, undressing the innocence to leave nothing but purity. purity that no one can touch. [undress me . . .] not even you. [undress me . . .] or you. [undress me of all of the pain . . .] it’s gone. I’m free.

undress me.