Tuesday, August 20, 2013


Many nights of her life, she has the same feeling, the incompleteness.  The search in her soul and her mind for the thing that will make her whole.  If you plant a seed in the ground it will surely grow to a beautiful thing, but you have to know what the seed should be.  Therein lies the problem.  She has never known what to grow.

Sometimes she looks around her and it all seems so pretty, this world of hers, so clean and new.   But, she is not looking at the weeds. There is pride somehow and she feels a swell, but just a quickly, she can feel incomplete.  She can see the cracks in it all, the soiled places in the walls of her life.  What kind of paint then?  What covering would you pick? 

Just as roots grow and twist, ever encroaching on the good, pushing forward and destroying whatever is in their path, so have the people done to her along her way.  They are small things to begin with, they are not significant, but they soon become bigger and wider and before she knows the cement of her soul is cracked or the foundation of her life has become unsettled and she is insecure.  They are gaping, gasping, mewlings and they take, and take.  They do NOT give back.  She only knows this when she cannot walk, and she cannot see.  She becomes blind because her vision has been given away, she has lost her sight.  She becomes deaf because she refused to hear.  She heard what she wanted to hear.  She hit herself up side her own head and it was hollow.  She blacked her own eyes, and laughed into her hands.  Nothing changed.  She hears the one who mimics, the "evil voice" and has to run and hide inside herself, jump from the car.  Just jump and roll, right?  it hurt like hell.

That same noise, over and over and over and over.  Is it a bark, or a crunch or a snap or a pop.  Over and over and over.  Redundant, listen smarty pants, listen, don't you hear that?  That same old shit?  over and over?  Crazy?  Of course you are!  You nutcase, that is why they come and sit on your back.  That is why they are drawn to you.  Mewling and crying and sniffing, leaving trails of snot on you, and you, feeling all sanctified and justified sitting there in their snot and tears, lost.  Blind because you would not see, and deaf because you only hear what you want to hear.  Your back is broken and you did not step on the crack, so fuck it all.

Did you really put on your turn signal to go around the curve?  You idiot you must think more clearly than that.  You must put your arm out the window too.  My Gawd. 

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