I wanna get up up up,
you brought me so far down
I'm still feverishly climbing
the ladder of corporation,
the purgatory of career,
out of the ditches of self-hatred,
the cage of age, and your
disgusting
unjustifiable love of youth.
You never grew up. I was your
mother, and you lusted after
children.

I need to get up up up,
I'm so fucking far above you
I'm so much lower than I need to be.
You made me want to overdose
on life and work and progress
and every goddamn drug I can
get my hands on. I'm no addict,
but I'm addicted to my pain,
and to my progress, and to
the endless lack of either.
Higher, higher, never high
enough
to breathe.

I'm still coming down from
your narcotic words and the
filthy, coppery taste of escaping
them. You were right, I don't love you.
Not any more. And that makes me happy.
I don't love you, I don't want
your love. I hate your love.
Your mangled love.
Your perverted love.
Your murderous
excuse
for love.

You only loved me when I was unattainable
when I was in the hospital,
when I was leaving you,
you loved me when I was near death,
and not
when I wanted to die.

Go fuck yourself for blaming it on me.
I'm sober now,
but I'll always be too high
for you to reach.