Friday 2/29/2008 12:48:00 AM

Doorbells and cyanide. In that order. No one's home. No one has been for so long. Laughing too confident. Fatted martyrs feast on each other. Chapped lips arguing with the mirror. As if it actually sees their their thirst.

Cold sheep bleating in a dark barnyard.. Hoping to be naked again soon.

Piss and peppermint. All he could swallow. Or spit up. As the case demanded. I couldn't find a lie. Only the suspicion. Filthy flags groping at a democracy that will forever remain a virgin.

Change always comes too late. After we don't need it. A future begging us to let it happen.

But the choice. That is what I miss most about having decided.

No diabetic sex to blame for the coma. No cells to accuse of treason. Sex turns its parlor tricks for the wide eyed, but we are not misled.

Never sleep. Never dream. Never wake up.

Indebted only to small lies told in moments of surrender. Small lies that keep getting bigger.

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