Conceptual Obligation

She failed to recognize me when I entered her home… and home is where the heart is, but my heart was not in it when we united… united we stand and divided we fall into each other’s arms and cry for our love that is failing… failing to teach us anything new as we have closed our minds, sealed them like mason jars, filled with our spirits… not the kind of spirits that make you be but the ones that make you be inebriated enough to not recognize me when I enter your home… though your home is where my heart is, but my heart was not in it because we separated… we separated ourselves from the rest of the pack so we could be alone,… together… together alone where no one dare enter… and no one does dare enter our domain where the pains remain the same and we constantly blame the other’s name… so divided we fall and united we stand holding each other close pretending that we recognize each other from long ago… so long ago that you know my home openly received your heart but I will always fail to recognize you... So, I conceived her in my mind, fabricated her at least 100 times- she just had a different name and features- occasionally she would change her outfit, or wear one rather… she passed away today as I realized that I’m sick, sick of being afraid and alone, sick of not understanding myself or my intuition… sick of her beautiful face smiling into the emptiness of my disillusioned heart… sick of my neighbor’s dog barking at me every time I go outside to defecate, sick of pollution because it gives birth to bitching from others… sick of watching my ex-girlfriend suck someone else’s manhood out of them on the Internet… sick with a fever so high that I’m hallucinating and conceiving her in my mind, fabricating her, it’s been at least 100 times today where she has remained naked, dying and making realize that I am so sick, sick of getting my ass kicked every time I fight and sick of fighting because I always get my ass kicked… sick of my best friend getting his dick sucked on the Internet by my ex-girlfriend… sick of going to the store on the corner, and it’s closed, then getting home and realizing that I was pushing not pulling the door… sick of being sick with a cold that makes me continue to conceive her in my mind or fabricate her now 300 or more times, just because I’m naked and dying from my sickness

---zachariah