Mad Croutons

Why? She insisted. Why try on this skin that will never fit. Why draw those outlines you will never fill in. Why make it hard. When it would be easy. Why. leave that bread in the oven when you know that it is burning.

Because. Because you wish to destroy. Because. Because it's easier to let something die than to care for it. Because. Because love comes in doses of hate. And that needle is nervous at best.

I could tell all three pigs what to build their houses with, but what would be the fun in that. I could kneel on the floor of that grim house. Where time still pretends to know the whims of flesh. Bantering with the deaf gods a finger at a time.

Falling asleep in cages with transparent walls. Waking up in worlds where all the windows are gone. If I could go back I'd just warn them that they're wrong.

There is only so much time to climb those steps. When you fall. You fall alone.