Monday, March 25, 2013

waiting to tell you something.

fingerprints on reptile's brain.
you can't call it cutting someone loose if you never meant to keep them anyway.
ticking down to an endscape with a grotesque face on the television.

every day you can ask yourself a million questions to find an easier way to find yourself when someone asks you a patient, prodding question. but when how you're living your principles as your answer, nothing will feel a foil.
she has the smallest face and broad shoulders. black hair.
features that pout the way juliette lewis does. a girl from the country.
spent too much time in the sun.
if she smokes, she's dead.
if she has a dark idea, she's dead.
if she has no idea, she's dead.
if she communicates deeply without the panic of an internal collapse, she's dead.
if she's never thought about the bottom, she's dead.
if she's planning to hit the bottom, she's dead.
if she's dead, she's dead.
if she refuses to understand she's dead, she's dead.
someone's going to promise her the things i've promised everyone and it will be ruined
and she will forget until she remembers to ignore the things that have happened that will force her to forget.
and she will hang on.
there aren't any more of me once this one is destroyed to dust.
this is an outdoor operation.
distinct metal bell.
recorded enough times to eventually sound like a word and then a vision.
one solid, clear, succinct independent wave.
long learned abilities leading to a powerful death.
a martyr assassinated off-screen.
seizures in a hiding place.

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