Saturday 6/16/2012 12:59:00 AM

soft hooks draw their outlines. small worlds with the color erased. no one asks why. they can't see. the world is theirs to manipulate. and we are just a small part of it.

the game presses her. creasing her smile with stray additions. the game waists for her decision. to see if she will fight. knowing she must.

the beauty of truth is that it's always unexpected. the reality is that everything is.

she counts the cocoons. as each caterpillar disappears. to transform. to become bigger. than the content of its skin. hunger changes her. finds the monsters only imagined. defeat impart its lesson. in stumbling stabs. the drunk of hate seethes. in the sterile sunshine of a hopeless embrace. alone searches for her, but she ignores it.

everything smaller than she remembers. as the world trembles with touch. little toys. rough with the game. sour in the dark. on the edges of hungry dice. spoiling with forgiveness. though suffering is what she prefers.

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