The Morning Brings Rebellion

The light of dawn came like an unwanted tumor.
The watch on my wrist reads 5:30.
It ticks my pulse away.
Late again.
Who cares.
I don’t.
The morning brings rebellion.
I’m going to lay here.
And play back memories of better days long gone but never forgotten.
Of the wind and joy of youth.
And the burning of infantile lungs.
I’m just going to lay here.
Shrouded in a cover of pleasant indifference.
Not caring of what all those little bubbles of creation think of me.
No one cares in the end.
When everything is rotting and recycling.
So why should I?
It feels so good just to lay here.
Still.
Unmoveable.
Unmemorable.
But yet.
I can feel a burning inside me.
A yellow radiation.
Scorching.
Fuck.
I need to urinate.
I have to leave my place.
This palace of silent conviction.
Unless I wet myself here.
A liquid defiance.
A humid dance.
Could I?
I prefer not.
No.
Urethra of Judas. I curse you.
Treacherous cocoon of electric multitudes.
I contain you.
I am you.
You are mine.
I’ll just compress.
Let my sphincter burn into degradation.
Let this battle with reality last just awhile longer.
I’m not ready yet.
To face that which lays beyond my bed.
I’m not ready to lose.
Here I am winning.
Here I am God.
I am thunder.
I am the eagle that sits upon the pyramids of old.
I am the destroyer.
I am the crossed one.
I am the horned one.
I am the brother below.
I am.
I.
I can’t.
No.
Not now.
The eyes.
The ears.
The mouths.
They are waiting to consume me.
I can hear their saliva dripping.
Their odorous breath heaving a furnace onto my brow.
They want to swallow me whole.
They want me.
More than anything.
Not yet.
Please.
Leave me.
I can feel the tug of their tumorous malaise in my blood.
Little by little I fall.
Drop by drop.
Cell by cell.
I’ll just lay here awhile longer.
And watch the hands of time push my breath slowly towards the dark.
Softly.
With just a tick, tick, tick. Tick.
I can feel the pressure of existance upon me.
It grows stronger.
Each tick a second more and a second less.
The fire below.
It grows.
Such betrayal.
My mind is all I have.
My little bunker of rebellion.
My little conscious mass of infinity.
My body has turned.
My cells.
My fibers.
They burn.
I can feel the gangrene.
It grows.
In the space between spaces.
They are here.
They’ve come.
I cannot help it.
I’m done.
Here I go.
My body is no longer mine.
Thieves.
They’ve come to steal my breath.
I am nothing.
Just a hollow sack of thoughts and quiet screams.
The fire.
The urine.
It pushes me up.
My cells. Those small dieties of cunning disloyalty.
It’s them.
It’s their fault.
Here I am.
Here I rise.
They push me skywards.
Gone is my cape of thinly spread defiance.
Gone is my army of many.
It is me.
Alone.
Here I am.
I’ve brought you myself.
On a platter of silver and gold.
Here I am.
Consume me.
Let me become one of that pit of forgotten names.
I am none.
I am no one.
I am.
I am.
I am.
Up.
I guess I’ll go urinate now.