Velocity Minus Mass

yellow autumns. purple winters. the bruised colors of her want. the world breaking. loudly. against soft hammers. rigid nails. stealing the sun from guarded corners. tempting angles. sober with beautiful diseases. the weather menacing. callous rain. sympathetic wind.

she was all caught up in her debate with gravity. not realizing it had already surrendered. the ground below a fuzzy dream from which she'd already awoken. the world above a simple chaos. brutal, manic and indifferent. real only because we desire it.
dots to connect. if only she could find a pencil. colors to trade for sound. clothes to take off. poisons to ingest.

drowning in stories. the end is infectious. slipping into another skin. choosing. from a long wardrobe of strangers she wishes to become. abandoning the panic that is herself. submitting.

the world ends quietly. in whispers and asides. life is a brief play. full of far too many actors and very little reason. pressing the buttons. naming the voids. igniting the engine. pretending to go somewhere. swallowing her cunt. humbled by the simple mazes that render us lost.

the truth in needles and medicine. because we are ill. terminal. scarred veins receive the antidote. and reject the healing. stiff gardens wear the world in broken zippers. gravity both a traitor and an ally.

as the fall takes over.