Not much to say tonight...
feel consumed by a strange feeling of sadness...
a passing moment, a fleeting emotion.
Silly dramatic man.
Captain PirateFace
The miserable prick bastard
____________________________________________________________________
Two lovers caught in a death stare
Under dark covers.
A hint of light reflected from the eyes.
Barely can hear the breathing.
Getting hot with every exhale.
By the time this is over I will have one.
And she will lay there wondering why she couldn't have done a thousand times better.
worried
I pace and wear down the carpet.
The milk in the fridge rots a bit more.
The phone sits un-interrupted and alone.
The music pours out pity music from small speakers.
The fly lay eggs in the dead mouse out back that choked on a piece of beef jerky.
No one knocks on the door.
My skin gets more pale, avoiding the little amount of sunlight that seeps through random
cracks in the house windows.
The bedsheets are cold.
I am holding my face in my hands sitting on a small chair made for a child.
My hands age by the second as does my face.
Time is killing this house...
and me.
help me get away
the admission of a bravery that they would all never visibly yield to.
They want to destroy me.
I am the destructor, I cannot be tamed.
Please let me go home.
I wave goodbye as your Chevy convertible goes crashing into rocks far below.
I am sorry.
Are we fun yet?
proud of the doom button taped down and set for kill
We have broken the damn and the water is bloating the bodies while we sit here eating and thinking of better times and black and white films.
The mother tearfully tells her son that she cannot turn tricks anymore as the syphilis is making her hallucinate, seeing her dead husband crying in a corner every time she attempts to seal the deal.
As I join her in bed she pulls me by the neck bringing me as close to her as humanly possible, whispering in my ear is a soft, sing-song sort of way how much she loves me and how that by morning I wont be able to walk when she is through with me.
Adding the last little mound of dirt to the cats grave the 6 year old son says a prayer that brings grown men to tears and almost has the power to bring that damn cat springing from the grave... almost.
As the door came crashing in the last human beings gave eachother one last hug and kiss goodbye before the robots began tearing them apart.
The tape ran backwards and we finally heard the voice of God
Writing the suicide letter was always hard to watch.
Death had patience and even though suicide itself brought him down...
It was his job to be there.
As soon as soul would vacate body, Death would lead the confused and newly departed down narrow hallways that would end in a room.
Death would sit them down in the room and play a tape on an old playback machine and walk out.
The next time Death would come back with a new soul the room would be empty and the tape reset.
Sure, it made him curious but in his line of work you don't question the bosses.
He knew one thing... it was one way or the other.
And not knowing the details was fine by him, making him one good damn employee.
Goodnight all... Hopefully some better stuff next time eh?
Captain PirateFace
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