jaerose
One. Two. Three. Count out the paces. The noise. What will it be. The floor comes up to my chin and I sink. But don't fall. This is the sound of something leaving. But my feet stay by the side of me.
I look at the wicker. At the words. I imagine the empty room. The words that will have to be found. The shopping seems heavy in my arms. I will pass the window tomorrow. I will drink the milk and toast the bread.
Those eyes looking at me. The noise. I tug at the pink sleeves. Won’t you just shut up. I flip the next slide. Try not to inhale the stench of maccy-d’s, silk-cuts and five day worn jeans. And they shall inherit the earth. They already own it. Own me. I am taught. Spent. By this pile of youth.
The wrath falls from his lips like pins. I catch them in my arms. Hammer them in. Twist and pull and wrench. We will be like this forever. Forever in wrath.