Sad Labels:
alcohol
,
philosophy
,
puzzles
she slept. in her barren cradle. her silence the sweetest lullaby. crying so quietly.
it's too bright she warned. this other world. where the truth is a combination of vague opinions and locked doors. she shimmies on her crutches. as the pavement climbs upward. broken bones aside. those slopes are a bitch.
the world's seen her and she's seen it. from the muddy prisons of the deltas to the high towers where the rifles chew on eager bullets. it's natural to confide in the dead.
it's causal. this peeling of the skin. what's underneath it is any one's guess.
i steal a direction from the thief before me. but destinations are harder to come by.