Broken Bones

Come back to us the hour pleaded. Leave us. Her face demanded. Perhaps we were then. We might even be now. What I can remember is just this. We are lost and we do not wish to be found.

She has her monsters. Her vengeful pets. as it were. Heavy molecules that attach themselves to the vapor of her breath. Making every word dense. Every conversation a challenge. She has her heroes too. And they are useless. Feeble blades that cut through the darkness with a whimper and a piss. A meek construct of morality more sticks than stones upon this bundle of ash we call choices.

All these lights. Still I only see one. It is this blindness that is responsible for my sight. I know not what these buttons will do. Nor where they intend to put us. I see the waves as they twist and turn in a choke hold of decisions. Tomorrow a soft lump of clay hardening rapidly in this meaty kiln.

Waiting is foolish. Since it has already happened.

I grab those skeletons and dress them in new skins. Saddened to watch them die all over again.