Empty With Me: The Shitman and the Invisible Spotlight

Fallen from inside myself

I grasp to the edges of me

Only pulling myself further down

Into the belly of I

Pulling out my knife

I hack and I stab at my innards

Scraping and tearing away at my flesh

I cut away all that I hate

Until all that is left is love

I could write forever but something is stopping me. I feel a block, a strange mental block. At one time I could free write forever, the words flowed from me freely and I didn’t give them a second thought. Now It is as if every word is a thought out processed piece of shit that I have to delicately carve and shape into a shitman. Frothy the shitman. Was a very shitty man. He stunk and slid all around the toilet and I flushed him down the hole. Kill the shitman kill the shitman. Fuck the audience. An audience of one. I think this is what I forgot. I was writing for myself before, and then when the pressure of an audience was presented, I froze in the invisible spotlight. Kill the armed guard at the invisible spotlight. I am with my shitcannon (My asshole) and shit bullets fly from it and penetrate the armed guard’s chest. He explodes into a million pieces of shit that rain down on the empty prison yard below. Empty with me. The invisible spotlight falls. And I stand covered in the shit of my own making. I write on the prison walls in shit crayons. I write forever over and over, forever over and over, forever over over forever. The words will not stick in the rain. The rain washes everything away. The shit returns to the earth from whence it came. Back to the rivers of shit, into an ocean of shit over the shitty waterfalls off the edge of the earth into the Universe of shit. That’s all we are, a Universe of shit, all of us, isolated in our own shit world, spinning around and around and around around, until we explode, and shit rains on the newborn babies below us. Shit rains on them and they think its new. But it’s old shit. It’s ancient shit, that was shat eons before any of us rolled in our own shit. There is no new shit. There’s just less shit to go around. I am the shitman. The Shitman forever. The shitman forever standing in the invisible spotlight. Won't the rain wash me away?