deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fuck you — in all my lives
I got puking drunk
for the first time in years
after a run in with a
street psychic.
I was hiding in the city of saints
when she hooked my eyes
with hers,
took a long drag off
a cigarillo,
and told me
without prompting or pay
I should revel in my pain
as I kept your soul contract
I caved,
intrigued.
I’d had one drink
on my way back to my safehouse
intent on waking sober
so I could run at dawn
I handed her
some money as
she shuffled a worn pack of
tarot cards,
and crushed
the small cigar in
plastic green ashtray.
I joked if you and I
had a soul contract,
that shit was in default
and someone was getting
their balls
repossessed.
And then I stopped joking.
She never looked at the cards.
She never fucking
looked at the cards.
Not once.
I’d glance down and see shit like
Lovers and Fool and a tower and death
cards with cups and swords
but she turned them over
to stab my eyes again
with her pupuls
as she said before
we ever agreed
to exist
the fundamental we
that has existed in all time
before time,
our incorporeal beings,
agreed to do this
this.
so you’d heal.
She had on dirty orange Crocs
and told futures from a fucking
card table on a street corner
that smelled like piss,
and she had the balls to say
I am the great lesson
from the universe to correct
all the shit that you keep
fucking up
for us in
every
single
life
She said
we knew it
we knew it
the moment we met.
Knew we were us
in every known universe
and my skin crawled
when she said
‘you couldn’t have
expected
each other’
I dropped my eyes for a moment,
she swept the cards into a pile
and took my hand,
not to read my palm
but to pet the top gently,
offering comfort on some
doomsday bullshit
I was yours in a last life.
and you are mine in the next
and
somehow
you keep fucking it up
the stars and the fates
and alternate universes have
all finally pointed
your face to that fact
I really was the
goddamn one.
for you.
I really was torn from your
rib and created to match
in every place but
here.
every when but
now.
so I’m the great
firstborn lamb to
sacrifice for the gods.
And, allegedly
you’ll never escape
this loss in this time
I’m supposed to love you enough
to be the fucking lesson
Oh
….
Fuck that.
Fuck all that.
As much as you’ve
lied to my in this life,
I feel like your future self
can hard-fuck a cactus
regardless of life cycles
and soul contracts
I overtipped her and
got drunk enough
alone
in a strange city
that the only good fortune
of the night was that
I didn’t end up
at the bottom
of the river or
tied up in a
skin-collectors
basement
I don’t want to live this life
without you
and I don’t want you
You suck
past my capacity
to accept you
as a human
worthy of me
in any time
I sure as fuck don’t want to throw
myself on some grand universal
sword so you can get better.
So
you…
Why the fuck is it always you
She told me.
If I loved you.
I’d be the lesson.
I hung over a toilet
later that night,
slightly amazed
at how much draft beer
tastes the same
both ways
and tried to keep my
hair clean as the
dry heaves hit
I don’t believe
in that sort of bullshit
but if I did,
Motherfucker
if I did
I’d slit my next-life throat
before I’d let her
near you
I’d smother future
you as an
infant,
so that I’d live
in a clean world
I’d hang myself with
a stranger’s belt
in broad daylight
right the fuck now
so I’d never risk
rebirth
in a time
you existed
Leaving you to your pain
this life gives you
peace now
and joy in the next.
it breaks your patterns.
(the patterns I saw)
fuck that.
Just fuck all of that.
and fuck you.
I get nothing from this
and you’ve left me nothing
of you to crave
in any age or era
I flushed the toilet
and crawled to the sink
to rinse my face
and brush my teeth
world spinning
unsure of which way
was up
unsure if maybe
sleeping on the floor
would be a better idea
than moving
Unsure of a lot
But sure of the fucking truth
No fucking charlatan
is going to feed me
horse shit
and call it cheesecake
I know the truth.
I know the fucking truth.
There’s nothing
after this for us.
In any life.
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