Will You be My Host?

My words threaten to escape my lips, as if secreting from my pores, permeating the very oxygen I breathe.
I inhale my thoughts. They are used, abused, recycled.
My eyes follow the electrical wire that is my life line, in a trance, deceived.
And these wires expand and collapse like an epiphany never given birth.

Time is subjective and I hold the hammer in my hand.
Time to rebuild, to piece together.
Time to restore, to resurrect from destruction the shattered pieces of this world.
Tikkun Olam they call it in Hebrew.
And I have made it my personal mission.

My soul and energy are evanescent.
I can't focus my eyes on a single shade of gray.
My body is weightless, floating...
It doesn't belong to me.
It is the carcass, the putrid meat, left for the hounds and vultures to devour.
It now belongs to the ravenous parasites...
So that they may voraciously consume what's left of me.

I am non-existent.
I reject your reality.
I reject this face and this persona.
For I am only meat.
I cannot be this.
This doesn't feel right.
How can I find sincerity...When everything I do emanates this subliminal message?

I am a subliminal message.
I feel my cells meeting with one another.
They are conspiring against me...
And I, like a coward, lock myself away in the prison that is my mind.

I am a subliminal message.
I prey on your feeble mind.
For I have found strength.
I have discovered manipulation.
And I am perhaps the most vicious and deceptive leech you will ever meet.

Will you be my host?