I hate you

You, the reader, you fucking suck, you and your peering eyes - you look and see and watch, you read those words that are not meant for you, they are meant for someone else - You take on the role of the wizard city builder, taking words and turning them into a solid, what was spirit is now trapped inside the body of your mind.

The wizard city builder is the greatest interiorizing force - where there was once a forest there was now a plain and then a city, you build bodies where there was none, sewers sprawling underground like veins seeping into the flesh - buildings rising like my hair - GROSS - asphalt is now my skin - your fault - your fault - your fault / I hate magic / I hate you, the reader, wizard city builder, dictiocrat - my words are now yours, only you can interpret them [WRONG]
I don'T want you to see it / I don't want to enter your mind, reader

medusa that you are, staring me in the eyes, turning me into a statue, the appendage that once was extruding from the body form is back in -
can't escape my body - [] only words can, immaterial as they are in transit, return to a body once heard, I don't want that, once written, they are stuck on a drive, paper, lenin, hard, brain - you remember the words - you ascribe meaning, where there was none (or maybe there was?) the wrong one is engraved - 01001001 00100000 01001000 01000001 01010100 01000101 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101 00100000 01000001 01001110 01000100 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101 01010010 00100000 01000001 01001110 01000100 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01001111 01000100 01011001 00100000 - ihate it I hate it I hate the reader, I am the author, I have one purpose I, I, I, I, I, I WANT TO DESTROY YOU / - in an artist's perfect world, there is nobody but I, I detest it, I reject the artist but it comes inside - / - it is inside -/-

Drumsticks, cake mix, watermelon, taco shells
Soda pop, lemon, apple, olive oil, cheerios
Green grapes, purple grapes, lettuce, pretzel, corn, ketchup
Orange juice, hot dogs, chicken noodle soup


- I am decieving , I hate what I have become, do I have the gender of the artist? of the poet? yes I do, but I am severely dysphoric, as is the nature of the artist/ one cannot look at the xenophobic self and accept it - not one that is a communist that is. -- I would like to invite you, reader, to myself, I refuse, to be an artist, a poet, I refuse to become the city builder that I despise . Is the reader the wizard city builder? Yes. but is the artist one of it's own mind? Of course, as the reader builds a city the author builds one of their own, the asphalt is MY skin, we are all bodies - (speak for yourself one might say) however inside the skin shell is me and in another you, we can form a single body if we want, would you, reader? Would you become a body with me, no longer should we other and self - instead shall we dance? -

or should I go to sleep, goodnight, cheri, I love you, the reader, you rule in a way, as you and I are the same.