Sad Labels:
frailties
The boomerang. Life constantly coming back. I'm only aware of everything.
And nothing.
That's what's wrong with me.
Sleep is loud. Charcoal eyelids breathe their methane. Insinuating explosions. The surface. The bomb. Completely innocent.
I hold the match.. I wait. For the world to blink. But it's never does.
Chewing loudly. I listen for the cartilage to ask. Where the bones have gone. Certain the future has an abundance of cannibals.
And that the past has all, but been consumed.
I can't taste anything. But I can feel it dying with each swallow.