Two-Lined Ode

this is a translation of a verse originating in a language unknown by me,

as i am not the one who wrote it,

but here are some helpful tricks:

for this language I will keep unnamed for its necessary piracy,

since the one spreading the rumors of its verse,

urged me to purchase it by illegal means,

what was that?

ah, yes,

in this language, "me" has three different meanings,

coupled with three different words, all meaning the same thing

so take each circumstance of "me" with a grain of gold,

in mind,

and that they exist at the same time,

whether that be me,

me,

or me.

the same goes for "you"

and "it"

"my"

and "I"

I mean, it really is not translatable so I don't even know why I bothered

I guess I thought it might be funny,

(but really I was just too lazy to brush my teeth)

still, without further ado,

here's the rumor-verse I'll attempt to faithfully transilliterate:

How is it that I just now understand this trashy two-lined Ode I wrote five years ago?

it went something like this,

My old words watch me like a secret spring

and my old words they grin to me in my sleep

Weird, right?

the whole ordeal is that smirk on god's face

that's it, that's what it is

your god,

my god,

their god,

no god---none.

that's the thing

the whole ordeal is that smirk

that's it

just a smirk

nothing else

only a smirk

now tell me,

how it was just you, walking

passed me by like a trickster while I was

trepidating with the (un)usual necessity of

off-course humanity

since that's what I promised my old words,

that I would be,

and like the faithful lover they are,

pretended to hide from me

allowing my eyeballs to retract down the curtain

and my mouth to cough out fumes of soot-ridden memories

(not good for the gums, but the after-effects of a thumping heart

are tasty)

horrific dreams, demonic means

While I decide to cut off my oxygen intake by 50%,

to really allow my heart to flutter in panic-stricken

tremors

i looked up and in your face saw it,

you know, right then, for me,

it was over

because on your face right there it was

the smirk

so now I see my old words,

so now I really see my old words,

(back then,

had i knocked upon-)

because on your face right there it was

the smirk

oh fuck

maybe i shouldn't let you read this

hell, you're the one with the smirk,

hell, you're the one who wrote this

so tell me,

what the H-

the treachery, you impaled me,

i bled out, bellowed in agony

in agony

you whispered words, for me to burn,

and i burned

and you know i did

you marked me with death ten times over,

now stop it, will you?

i've had enough of this treacherous business

selling godforsaken

fish

in the streets like my satchel has no holes

it does,

and you now it,

while you watch from a wooden chair well-versed

in the business

begging me to come over

why do you beg me to come over

while telling me,

with your eyes,

to remain?

to keep selling

fish

like a derelict?

your electrified iris holds a pupil whose presence scares me

its unmistakable

you do dare me to stay, you do!

i know it!

so why do you keep calling me over,

how can you have that smirk

that careless smirk

when your electrified eyes just exist

showing me that you know

you-

just know in stillness, just tarnish in silence.

you're always there,

doing that,

what you do,

with the smirk,

the electrified eyes,

that look at me,

only at me,

spitting out sunflower seeds from that wooden chair what

careless humor

and look at all the others, everywhere, to the right, the left, up, down,

and other axes-

how can you hang your head back in spontaneous laughter,

that i suspect goes on ever after,

and i know you're still looking at me,

and right next to you, speaking,

jesus christ! oh, hell!

it gets blurry, when I try to keep looking,

i can't ever focus on you,

it feels like when I try to force my eyelid all the way to the right

do it-

see how it feels-

nauseating, isn't it?

but i swear i saw you,

i swear you're right there,

right now,

like a whisper in a hazy dream that clashes into my heart

managing to be the roar that trembles in the walls of all of my memories

the dark heart of hatred

as you wish so deeply for my end

you, my friend,

why do you so wish to scald me in the flesh?

while beckoning me,

constantly,

to come over,

when it is

you,

who is

selling

all

fish?