Alas! Alack! Shellac! VARNISH!!!
I looked around, enjoying the sensation of no one looking back at me... It felt good to be invisible...just me, the smiley blueberry muffin, and a quarter, avec baseball bat...I'm fine... it's a fine day...everything's fine...need more prozac........ Kill her, she's a B*TCH! ....I like Thursdays.....PAYDAY... should I ? maybe? maybe all of them now? more for me... all of them for me?? running and making squeaky noises... yes.... look at them...no.. don't.. then they might know and look back ..sneaky twisty ways... yes...yes....closer....wa ha ha ha ha. ::THWAP:: yes!!!...it's the mad avocado....hold still ye lil bugger ..look at the nice shiny brick..nice brick.....shiny brick.....you want the shiny brick, don't you?? ::THWAP THWAP SMACK:: dammit.... ::squish::.... ewww...... blech.... I feel better ...... much better....I am the muffin goddess.... now, which way to Washington.... as always, business must be attended
One more open book? "Alas my love, you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously" (Green Sleeves)......oh yes.....yes you did......didn't you, but you would never admit that...It was always me; my fault.... maybe I should....yes...no .. yes ..maybe....not.......now.........the music is in my blood....but....... if it was wrong.....the noise was too loud...all in my mind and darkness..... no.. no.. no.. I won't think..... and then you were away... She was a blonde, wasn't she? .....You know I hate blondes... No, not really... I only hate the ones you slept with... makes sense I suppose... one of the few things that does... Dinner was cold...not because you were too late...because I never heated it...nothing more than you deserved...you'd never know anyway... you never showed up.... and the children cried....annoying little brats next door... their mother should put them on a leash....getting colder now...always does that this time of year....but I never seem to remember it right.....maybe a fire.....yeah.. nothing left anyway.....maybe a BIG fire??? Spare gasoline was in the garage wasn't it?? never bother to put in my trunk, lazy jerk... but then, what did you care if my car broke down?...oh well....it's there...mine.....smells horrible...have to wash these socks later...matches? probably over by your old cigarettes...I hated those things... always thought you were trying to kill me...maybe you were....sparks......gorgeous ignition...too much like worship... dancing..... much warmer now.......... .........and... I'll..... dance.........
How much poetry is in the human soul? Spiritual blood to be spilt; fed upon Until you find yourself drowning in it Pure expression floods from your being Draining you of once iron will Until you are left spent; sprawled naked before The world, stunned and gasping waiting for strength To slit your wrists And let the tide break
I can breate the night A wanton fallen angel Tempting or deadly
Turned within turning within turning within turning Until all sense but the confusion was lost and The morning was a lavender cascade Blended with a splotch here and a dab there Broken now and again with a scream of plaid so Loud- it was almost sacriligious And it sheltered order And structure dipped in cinnamon Served to its beings cold Since all cinnamon orders given coldly produce the best results Too warm and it burns crazy mad sweet 'Til the friction causes chaos to breed. Then the children must be hidden No young innocents to watch the chaos breeding No more than can imagine mandlebrots unfettered Keep them safely drowned in plaid 'Til barely conscious Turn them round and round again Stab them in square pegs, 'cause they were built to crumble Call it a decade, Always fade to Black... Control and Confusion
No, no! Don't squish the muffin! It's my paradox, and I reserve the right to invert it Whenever I please... Even if the whole universe implodes... Just remember.. No matter what happens, we'll always have the Penguins in the bathtub...and...uh...what came after... And the polaroids to prove it!..(until I burn those) Maybe a hammer, attacking and ferocious On a past that stretches like pristine glass behind me Struck in the middle to shatter backwards Impacting on my flesh to form frayed and prismatic wings And cut the masks away despite the blood and pain Ripping through fragile shelters I was too blind to recognize As more prison than haven Here and there catching a reflection of the people I was To the people who needed me to be anything but who I was Trying to forge the pieces together; Needing to find who I am now Uncertain if the masquerade has gone too deep to end Submerged in the rips of my own subconscious Flowing deeper... Laura Roelans © 1998 The Stream Flowed Deeper