My brain has separated itself from the rest of my body and is floating around like a balloon, leaving me without regulatory functions, inspiring nausea, confusion, and a sense of being completely lost even on streets familiar. This is not quite the inspiration I was banking on, my muse, she appears to be malfunctioning, flashing in red diodes emitting frightening light, ERROR, ERROR, and then her head explodes, leaving fire, sparks, nuts and bolts strewn across the room, leaving the kiss of a third degree burn on my face, gas spewn, burning down the house and her lying in a pile, limbs twitching, whirring noises, the grinding of gears bent out of shape, a crumpled collection of damaged parts wrapped in a sexy black outfit, unfit still, looking delicious even so, a meal fit for a king of shit. A queen of torture, only fit for a masochist such as myself, me standing on a bed of upright nails and wishing I weighed more, jumping up and down with ecstatic glee, harnessing an overly erratic Chi, throwing my slut self on so many torn scraps of rusted metal in the scrapyard that is my lovely mind, blood running discolored from it and to boot, a full body muscle spasm pending from tetanus, with a heavy head I'm too stressed to lay to rest. I want to end this story violently, smash the glass epilogue to hundreds of perfectly misshapen shards reflecting her perfect eyes which even in pieces will burn holes in my brain like excess MDA.