An Intrinsic Exquisite
I have cut myself in half
would never let them sever
my thoughts from my feelings, why would I want to take the engine off the train so the train will never move again?
just because the engine sometimes gets too hot or eats too much of my life with its constant burning. just because the train doesn't like the way it looks in these landscapes, because rivers are dangerous to cross and tunnels are long and dark
no, brain and heart stayed together from the start
I'm cut in half through the middle of myself, right through the heart I cut and I keep cutting
I can't keep this up much longer but I can't seem to stop either
the skin cutting thing must be a version of this, though I never had the temper for self slicing skin, the other kind, within, recurs with a force whenever I begin to live
who am I
if not a minority?