Suicidal Ideations

Hey you. No. Not you. That other guy. A little to the left.

Three days later the cake was gone and the moon was in her throat. Making all her words heavy with gravity and kinetics. The stop sign came out of nowhere. A sudden scar on her thighs. I turned left and played with the limits of lsot for too many miles.

Hey you. No. Not you. Him. Yes. No. Wait.

The coin dropped. The machine spat up cordial songs and faint gallops of rhetoric. Moist lounge chairs stuck to her flesh. As she tested out a darker complexion. It was hot. And she was looking to burn. It was over and she was looking for a sequel.

Hey. You. No. Not you. A little to the left. Stupid men. I'm not looking at you. You're too predictable.

Wait. What's this. My hungry ferris wheel. That always pauses at the top. It's not as tall as I thought it was. I can see so far. But still not far enough.

I could jump. Tame this machine once and for all.