The Sky Is Falling

This derelict sky. That refuses to fall. On little chickens. Bad atoms. Vomitting. Too small to notice. Changing everything. It is falling. It is. Fast. But no one can see.

The monster. Shivering under her bed. Afraid. To face her. Telling its children. Scary stories about the world above. Frightening people. That build their closets with the bones of murdered monster babies.

Just places. Dim with transition. And molted skins. The frightened ghouls. Quivering under our beds. So afraid of the people above.

Their big teeth. Their sharp claws. All uselesss against. Determined hours dissolve. Into lessons. On apathy. Denial. Linear directives in the chemical life. Mutated survival mechanisms. Create the bashful monsters. That they would kill us quietly.

She weighs what she's gathered. During her travels. She weighs it against the things not taken. All this skin. All these bones. Just to try being anyone. A monster. A man. So much waste. All it takes is an atom. One little atom.

To change everything.

Mannequin faces. Prematurely abort the kiss. Skin candy wrappers come open. Crinkle. Chew. Spit. Empty. Hungry again.

Pliers in her legs. Tear the nails from the coffin in her belly. Hammers in her fingers drive them back in.

Dead is dead.