Sunday 7/25/2021 11:40:00 PM

 i pressed onward even as the miles flaunted their betrayal. not sober enough to care. too angry to hear. those voices that chase us when we run.

tugging on the knots as the ceiling opened up. gathering stones. to weight the corpses.

it's not really a storm unless there's a flood. the words aren't true until some blood is shed.

we're so raw when we need someone. it's unforgivable when that skin is torn off.

sometimes there is light. others it is dark. we pretend we can see regardless.. but the truth is we live most of our lives blind.

we can be strong. we often are. collecting our villains like trophies. spending those moments like candy. disregarding the voices that would make us small. 

Wednesday 7/21/2021 10:55:00 PM

even the little stones still leave a bruise. 

we don't go as far as we used to since we've gotten older.

it only takes a brief downpour to fill those shallow crevices. all that sediment rises to the surface. 

we gather our numbers. prepared to solve for null. we shake our empty cans. and startle at the silence.

the toad waits as the flies come to him. 

all our purple screams and yellow shrugs churn against the canvas of our hurt. 

every breath a lie. every word a treason. 

sometimes it's the little cuts that bleed the most. 

Sunday 7/18/2021 11:20:00 PM

 the thief grew impatient as the lock proved sturdier than expected.

there are the things that can be taken. and there are those that cannot.

the silence stumbled and tried to say. but the words were gone.

the mirror broke. the reflection shattered. there were pieces everywhere.

i couldn't see. it was all too far behind.

the assassin polished her blade. knowing the dead seldom stay in their graves.

it's ugly chasing those ghosts. uglier still being chased by them.  

Thursday 7/15/2021 11:22:00 PM

 there's a slit in the silence where all our words disappear. there's a hole in our skin into which the sweetest touch is lost. we've never been solid. always a fragile mesh frantically  trying to hold onto all the moments that are constantly slipping through our grasp. 

some tie such tight knots in us that there's no going back to before. nor any moving forward from them. 

until we're forced to cut them.

there's a corner in each of us where no one else has ever been. or ever will. 

the closer we get, the more alone we are. 

there's a piglet inside our head always stacking bricks. there's a wolf under our skin hungry for houses to blow down. 

there's the fairy tales we linger on when the night is soft. and there are the villains that destroy them. 

it doesn't really matter which ones we are. in the end they're the same. 

Wednesday 7/14/2021 10:35:00 PM

weak or strong. it's the details that  make those cuts. 

the clothes we used to wear lay empty. the skin that used to fit is now much too small. 

eyelashes. fingernails. earlobes.  the smallest things make up the bulk of our weight. 

the corners are what hold up the walls. 

the windows seldom open. the doors are usually locked. 

no stairs. no refuge. just the echoes of vacant rooms.

we live our lives with time wrapped tightly around our throats. 

it can give us courage or it can strangle us with fear. 

that's the one choice we make that actually matters. 

Tuesday 7/13/2021 11:30:00 PM

 stubborn edges are our  last remaining bridge. the butcher in our ugly fairy tale. 

we cut the horizon with our stones. searching for a way inside what we choose to remember. . 

the silent rooms. the quivering doors. the broken locks. laughing as we search for egress. 

the whispering hallways. whose corners seldom tell. how close we are to the end. how far we've come from the beginning. 

memory is a theater. stories told by liars. still we applaud. because it tells the stories we want to have lived. 

we fester. inside our straw houses. desperate for the wolf to make good on his threats. 

holding that match. waiting. always waiting. for the perfect moment to to burn it all down. 

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