my first seizure was liberating
absolutely like nothing i’d ever felt or feel again
i felt utterly addicted, tongue bitten,
“how could god simply give me a taste of that
and have me go on?”
most medications were resistant, in whichever way, but
i was far from down on my luck
because it was skipping a dose
because it was doubling a dose
for my spine to curl again, down-and-out
you fall asleep in your bed
and you wake up in an ambulance
“status epilepticus,” floats around
you fucked it all up, i wasn’t supposed to find you
i need to get away from myself, i am the strange animal
it’s better than a razor, better than getting drunk, better than
any roach, better than being violated
better than starving, better than hygiene
because now it’s never my fault
because it’s tripling a dose, side effects are the main course
foaming at the mouth now, this is better than an orgasm
this is epilepsy as a means of retaliation
this is epilepsy as tantric sex, i am ‘i am’
exploding on the lumbar vertebrae is my capillaries, bleeding liver
purplish vein bursts from the rapture, my magnum opus
how deep does it have to go? boy with entrails in hand
my synapses explode with insatiable hunger
how do you like me now? boy with brand new bruises
tongue healing, i can speak in it now
pioneer of self-injury, poster boy of darwinism
this is far from disabling, i am, in fact, cruising for a bruising,
no disability should ever feel like this, this is,
this is masturbating, this is crucifying
this is maturing, this is hallucinating
another epileptic cry, another—