continued commentary

so in that commentary on circa 2009 yesterday there’s one poem I referenced/mentioned a couple times - touch me taste me breathe me. particularly in the context that the second open letter is practically a rewrite.


it’s not the first time I rewrote it. this is the original:

You hold me (touch me taste me breathe me) and I saw your eyes smile more than mine ever would/could/couldn’t, fingers on my lips took my breathe away make you gasp touch you above your hips and you squirmed, come and dance with me my darling and the world is gone, alone with you bodies twist together hold you hold me in your, my our sleeping softly you are so beautiful tranquil calm tired-happy CRACK! the world is harsh and bright and hurts my eyes where the fuck am i who the fuck am i? I remember your face so vividly, butterfly, I am vacant smoking a cigarette I’ve forgotten about how to feel CRACK! how am i supposed to feel i don’t know it feels strange like every other tWiStEd BrOkEn emotion have i forgotten how to feel? you drift away from me I am trapped in a prison of pills I can’t get out I can’t stay with you and we are fading away…I hurt myself…I kill my Self…i breathe sickly sweet sedation through my body breaking apart lost too much weight too gaunt too pale on the edge living on cigarettes and coffee and can’t keep this up much longer falling apart CRACK! help me falling down fuck drowning in wine and choking on pills where are you? I’ve lost you, self destruction has a destination…how close am I now?

there’s a duality in this. it’s in part, a love poem and in part, it’s very about drugs. the image I had in my head when I wrote it was a then relationship going to shit because of my drug abuse.


like it describes a breakdown pretty well.

I rewrote it years later, without the drugs parts. then again, bringing them back in in the form it is now. the content of the original with the style of the first rewrite.

because I have accepted that I have issues with substance abuse. I try and keep it under control as best I can, only doing things that are self-limiting, trying to keep things as stable as I can by figuring out ways to work through it.

and I wrote this:

it’s still a drug

the the more I try the worse it gets, the more I try to forget.

addiction is complicated. I’m not really addicted to anything physiologically - okay that’s a blatant lie I smoke ~1 pack a day - but the psychological addiction of just being Out Of My Head is certainly there, and that’s when the dissociatives just get so tempting.

never always wanting never nothing wanting never

never escape no escape

it’s always a fucking drug.

I wrote it’s still a drug as a response, I guess, to touch me taste me breathe me. because it was honestly always more about the drugs than that relationship, one that fell apart before it began, if I’m honest. I still talk to her, sometimes, she was the first person I told I was trans. we both fucked each other up too, but there’s no blame to be had.

it’s still a drug.

it always was don’t ever think it wasn’t

don’t ever think


and that’s it, isn’t it?

if I’m off my tree on dissociatives or spaced out on something that’s got me sedated and high I don’t have to think. when I mention to doctors and pyschs that, yes, I do take drugs, they invariably ask me about amphetamines (there’s an epidemic, apparently).

hell no, I take drugs to slow down.