| The Prophetic Ramblings of Year One: Nineteen | ||||||||
| Someone think of the chains! They have nothing to lose but you! ~~ You laughed as logic and emotion wandered hand in hand through the gardens that cover this foreign place in alien fauna. ~~ We kissed half sleepy kisses in the dark: I remember you drowned me, and breathed a word that told me you were happy. This, before you took me apart that night, and scattered my remains to the wind. They lost me that night at four a.m.; should they find what is left of me someday, the trouble would do justice the discovery, and end this year long headache of mine. Dropped porcelain screams in pre-pubescent dreams, of candle lights that flicker and sniff the untainted air. Altered Atkin�s diets, twenty lbs. of �you-wont-believe-your-eyes� yet no friend jealous, just flickering green. I am next in line, so say your goodbyes. ~~ Tell me where you are from. It does not exist. Describe your child hood pet. You never had it. Listen to me, and the worlds you knew will shrink from memory, and escape their entanglement with destiny. Your six months left in the land of the living, paper mache or crazy glue, we�ll stick together me and you. Identified with mogulized fabrics, t-shirts, and cigarette camels; an intense fruit flavour for intense people like you! Symbolism! Symbolism! Symbolism! Perched upon the mantle, amongst the clocks and wicks and frames askew, she sits beyond your control, above your thought or two: a word for a word, your heart for my soul. O O O O to live when April was the cruellest month, and I was not the man you used to know. When Lucifers satin white beard descended to tickle this city in its fruitless underbelly; through the fog in the fall I knew - I knew the change I saw in you. I knew he came to collect his due. Immortal blue, yet it cannot save you. The rain begins. The light goes out. I am tired of this life. This view. |
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