can't won't stop screaming

(this is "puke poetry" at it's most pure - it came from a minor mental breakdown. i'm going to scan the original and post it later.)

i saw her shrinking back like the world was throwing sticks and stones and bricks and knives - like it was looking for a bar fight, wielding a broken beer bottle with menacing and tempting edges - i saw the walls sliding down like concrete rapids fed by a year of headaches and bruised necks and egos - like the scars won't show and burn through like the mother of god herself screaming her existence to a forgetful and vengeful world - like a ten alarm fire that hasn't eaten for months looking for hearts to consume and digest and spit back out - how else will we feed when we can't breathe or see through the trees standing like an army at our feet - battle cries and smoldering white flags, the rage of freedom in every last eye - lungs bursting throats bleeding never conceeding always proceeding - because left, left, left, right and then we left - we inhaled the sunrise like a cigarette and what we lost we'll never find because the world's out for blood and her - another notch on the club and black ink tear under the eye - i am she is we are all battle scars - open wounds - reminders - we are every nightmare every sleep walk every step in front of a moving train, off a roof, out a window - we are every pill, every needle, every bullet - we are immortal in our potential to destroy and create, to obliterate and to change and we'll never settle for decimation - the ring is right but the numbers are fucked and disappointing and numbing and frustration embodied and i need you to see the beating beating drum of this and these hearts - i need to feel the head rush and the subsequent crash back to earth because the sahara is in my mouth far too often and you'll never taste it like you can the copper fear on the tip of your tongue since fear tastes just like currency and blood - it's on our hands and there's no one coming to save us or to rectify the situation or to dole out our appologies or publish our obituaries - we will not be forgotten and yet oblivion is in our small and blue prints - i still can't feel the knife at my neck - the invasion being inconsistent despite the inconvenience of ingenius - and i can't stop screaming and she can't stop bleeding and everyone can't stop cascading like they're avalances - like they're the only hope - like they're the only hearts that matter - self involvement indulgence destruction is the word of the day - three times and it's yours, three more and it's mine - i can't stop picking at the edges unraveling cannibalizing everything that i find - it's all i know how to do right - just a girl that hurts - she me we are - it's an art like sylvia dying - how many times the charm before the lock's picked - how many sucker punches before we look up first - how many broken fingers before we learn to quit slamming doors - how many times until no is yes and wrong stays wrong - i can't stop screaming until she starts smiling and she can't start smiling until they stop dying and they can't stop dying because there's nothing else left and so
i
can't
stop
screaming.