ar

says,

"I'm not mad, I'm just---" 'disappointed', no she mustn't say that. It was only an inkling of what she felt but not entirely. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. All before she began tracing shapeless patterns on his lap. "I just wish you could see yourself the way I do you....That you're a good man...with the capacity to be better."

         *   LIKE  A  TIDAL  WAVE,  marilyn  rushes  in.   radiating  a  distinct  warmth  than  from  when  they  argue,  when  he  picks  to  be  difficult,  when  he  isn’t  SOBER.   sharing  a  shell  of  intimacy  which  he  yearns  for  ;  hearts  steadily  lead  him  home.   he  counts  the  rhythm.          ‘ ‘         ’ ’          she  continues  when  he  doesn’t  speak,  justifying  for  his  demons.   to  avoid  conflict,  he  stays  hushed.   burnished  hues  watch  the  space  between  them  close,  as  knees  touch,  fingers  interlock.   spiritually  fading  out  with  now  red,  swollen  eyes.   robert  doesn’t  want  to  cry  …  he  ISNT  crying.   as  his  wife,  she  swears  he’s  a   good   man,  which  he  is,  behind  white  noise.   here,  she  loves  the  man  he  WAS,  wanting  to  love  the  man  he  COULD  be.   yet  change  ;  to  change  for  her,  for  their  daughter,  was  laborious.   veering  his  person,  an  arm  hugs  to  her  frame,  hands  at  her  collar,  anchoring  her  forehead  to  his.   eyelids  are  fixed,  mouth  agape  with  no  words.   she’s  intelligent,  she   knows   .   he  wants  to  APOLOGIZE  but  can’t,  she   knows   .   she  draws  that  smile  he  fell  in  love  with.   they  kiss,  a  sacred  kiss,  forbidden  to  feel  the  rush  of  love  all  at  once.   what  would  he  do  WITHOUT  her  ?   what  would  he  do  if  she  ended  up  *  hating  him  to  his  grave  for  never  changing  ?         

image

      ‘ ‘     …  i  love  you.     ’ ’           three  forbidden  words  for  a  very  forbidden  moment.         

says,

looks to the floor, "we --- we should stop this. I can't deal anymore."

    ‘ ‘     suit  yourself,  cry  baby.   you’re  too  innocent,  yet  you’re  getting  older.   didn’t  i  make  it  clear  ?   there’s  no  sentimental  anything  here,  in  this.   we’ve  both  got  a  short  burning  blade,  it’s  easier  to  unconsciously  make  decisions.     ’ ’          *  ANTIPATHY  IS  MANIFESTED.   nostrils  seethed.   there’s  a  calescent  mean  in  his  abdomen,  depleting  the  very  existence  that  was  the  patient  of  his  persona. 

image

     ‘ ‘     …  you’re  an  object  anyway.    ’ ’ 

Anonymous

says,

You open your eyes to find a dark room. You’re intimately familiar with the dream, the blood on your hands, the heavy anxiety in your chest at knowing you’ve done something horrible. Feet hardly touch the floor as you flee down black corridors. Something is chasing you; maybe your own guilt. You feel hope that you might outrun it, until you trip and tumble to the floor. It catches up. Teeth white out your vision and.. you open your eyes to find a dark room. This goes on until you wake at dawn.

          *   A  MAN  WHOM  IS  BORNE  MONEY  HUNGRY,  IS   PRIDEFUL   .   a  fool  for  sacrifice.   WITH  THY  HANDS  SO  BLOODSTAINED,  TASTES  LIKE  HONEY.   too  hard  to  leave.   instilled  within  the  hollow  of  his  bust  is  heavier  than  guilt,  than  the  anxiety  which  erodes  him  ALIVE.   sheets  suffocate,  ghosts,  no,  DEMONS  bedeviling  him  cleave  the  vessel  seam  by  seam,  limb  for  limb,  to  his  essence.   pearl  white  are  their  teeth,  temporarily,  then  peppered  with  the  blood  of  his  rotting  flesh.   robert  HOWLS,  wants  to  shoot  them  away,  but  these  corridors  only  echo  &  groan.   YOURE  SCARING  ME  …  how  they  are   mean   .   by  dawn,  he  feels  colder,  awoken  in  a  foul  sweat.   aquatinted  with  these  villains,  they  insinuate.   nineteen  *  the  acts  of  flesh  are  obvious:  sexual  immorality,  impurity  and  debauchery;  twenty  *  idolatry  and  witchcraft;  hatred,  discord,  jealousy,  SELFISH  AMBITION.   his  teeth  grit,  knucks  white  from  a  hermetic  clamp  on  adjacent  sides  of  the  bathroom  sink.   there’s  no  longer  A  MAN  in  this  reflection  …  no  longer  a  LIVING  MAN.

image

says,

Pops out of Robert's pocket ❝Boo!!❞
image

     ‘ ‘     jesus  !   …  you’re  gonna  give  me  a  heart  attack  one  of  these  days.     ’ ’          IS  RESPIRED.   brows  knit   as  obsidian  eyes  droop.           ‘ ‘     didn’t  i  ask  you  to  stay  home  ?     ’ ’          

says,

she sits close enough that their thighs touch, the drink that'd been in her hand now settled 'pon the coffee table. her hand settles over robert's, her gaze meeting his face. ' hey, ' she hums--- her tone is soft, yet she speaks loud enough with the hopes of getting his attention. using her free hand she gingerly guides his head to face her, fingers under his chin dropping to rest in her lap. a light squeeze to the hand in hers; hopes of reassuring him--- ' you 'n me, we're gonna be alright. '

     ‘ ‘     jesus,  MARY  …     ’ ’          AS  THE  BALLAST,  they  come  to  terms.   together,  she  is  sheltered  &  so  is  he.   when  her  golden  optics  fluctuate,  ripple,   bloat   ,  she’s  seeking  the  shelter  that  is  HE.   robert  greets  her  with  the  fervency  of  physical  contact  ;  a  body  that  carries  the  same  ENCUMBRANCE.   she’s  inundating  with  anxiety  but  he  hushes  her.   an  inaudible  hum,  corresponded  appendages  brush  through  fawn  locks,  tucking  strands  behind  her  ear.   he  always  let  mary  in,  they  both  met  as  equals  in  presence  after  all.   a  smile  draws,  hurt  yet  INSPIRITED.

image

   ‘ ‘     when  did  ya  get  so  soft  …     ’ ’          exhale.         ‘ ‘     …  never  leave  me.     ’ ’             

says,

[ coat ] + [ tears ] // cuz comfort her w/ her unrequited love for tt robin

solarborne.     //      [ coat ]  +  [ tears ]  reversed.

     ‘ ‘     …     ’ ’          SKIN  IS  VARNISHED  PALE.   animate  organs  reverberated  erratically  as  he  tired  to  mull  hastily.   there  was  no  leeway  for   bullshit   or  to  fabricate  a  lie.   GRIEF  was  a  mutual  feeling  ;  in  addition  to  sobs  which  transpired  in  a  spur.   star  pivoted  &  collapsed  into  his  arms,  shedding  her  coat.   the  dew  of  tears  are  soaked  up  into  the  cloth  of  his  long ━  sleeve  …  he  had  to  do  laundry  ultimately.   timid  paws  blanket  her  ethereal  frame  with  softhearted  strokes.  for  a  second  he  thinks  of  VAL  ━━━  &  the  first  time  she  came  home  wearing  a  HEARTACHE  ;  third  grade,  the  boy  wouldn’t  share  his  damn  animal  crackers.   limbs  are  taut,  a  breath  is  drawled  before  speaking.

image

    ‘ ‘     …  i  get  the  whole   ‘   HES  THE  ONLY  GUY  I’VE  BEEN  IN  LOVE  WITH    ‘  part  …  it’s  hard  to  let  go,  hard  to  move  on  to  someone  else  &  think  you’ll   never   find  anyone  with  such  characteristics  or  chemistry  like  you  two  had,  but  i  PROMISE  ━  trust  me  on  this  ━  …  promise  you  once  you  let  go  &  move  on,  you’ll  find  out  that,  deep  down,  the  only  feelings  you  have  for  him  might  be  just  the  fact  that  you’ll  ALWAYS  love  him.   you’re  scared  to  move  on  without  him,  i  know  …  but  it’s  going  to  be  okay  ;  you’ll  never  end  up  like  me,  that’s  a  plus  ?     ’ ’    

says,

[ lit ]

afathersduty.     //      [ lit ].

      ‘ ‘     …  i’ve  got  hands,  you  know.     ’ ’          IS  SAID  MATTER OF FACTLY.   scarred  digits  scramble  with  an  embittered  growl.   FUCK.   surrendering  to  the  lack  of  motor  skills,  robert  heaved  it.   further  there’s  no  fuss  but  an  array  of  grunts.   brows  tic  &  he  creases  arms  over  his  chest.   there’s  TOO  much  of  an  acquainted  stillness  before  dresdaen  gets  the  memo,  to  which  he  promptly  aids  to  it.   the  cubeb  is  then  lit  &  he’s  ALIVE  again. 

image

     ‘ ‘     …     ’ ’     ‘ ‘     thanks.     ’ ’