Death came over tonight for a smoke and a drink. I asked him what he was doing there but he never responded, he only shook his head, took another puff, another shot and grinned at me. I saw nothing in those skeletal eyes that I liked. I had a stiff one and a drag myself mulling it over. Death is only your friend at random, the statement seemed to pop into my mind like the half-mad stars. I shot him a glance to see what he thought, and death seemed to agree with me, but he didn't disagree with me either.
One of those still-birth pauses came into existence.
Life was as brittle as any other day for Jamie. She spread her legs along with her mouth and bore it in monotony. It was the way the sun speckled across the sidewalks that she thought of till it was quitting time. Only her punch-card was made of tears, and she never gave a fuck anyways. Life was tolerable, which is what mattered, only whiners and complainers belittled their fate. Why the fuck am I still doing this?
Little Steven washed his little brown chihuahua behind the ears, sniffing the air in joy; his favorite thing in the world was the smell of dish soap that spilled over his hands and his doggies ears. A clean smell that infused onto his skin along with the sudsy water. He smelled that same smell as Daddy came in that day with a skull and crossbones over his head and broke little Stevens arm; whopping him a good one with his fist, then kicked the dog and splattered it satisfactorily against the side of the wall “There, that'll teach you to make a fucking mess, retard.” Mommy was in the bathroom with a belt around her arm, making love to a needle.
On the other side of town no one was doing anything worth much. I breathed in the sense of things yet to come, special things which I knew no-one could take away from me. The feelings mixed over me. It was going to be a good day irregardless.
One of those still-birth pauses came into existence.
Life was as brittle as any other day for Jamie. She spread her legs along with her mouth and bore it in monotony. It was the way the sun speckled across the sidewalks that she thought of till it was quitting time. Only her punch-card was made of tears, and she never gave a fuck anyways. Life was tolerable, which is what mattered, only whiners and complainers belittled their fate. Why the fuck am I still doing this?
Little Steven washed his little brown chihuahua behind the ears, sniffing the air in joy; his favorite thing in the world was the smell of dish soap that spilled over his hands and his doggies ears. A clean smell that infused onto his skin along with the sudsy water. He smelled that same smell as Daddy came in that day with a skull and crossbones over his head and broke little Stevens arm; whopping him a good one with his fist, then kicked the dog and splattered it satisfactorily against the side of the wall “There, that'll teach you to make a fucking mess, retard.” Mommy was in the bathroom with a belt around her arm, making love to a needle.
On the other side of town no one was doing anything worth much. I breathed in the sense of things yet to come, special things which I knew no-one could take away from me. The feelings mixed over me. It was going to be a good day irregardless.
