Practical Madness

 the years stacked their stones. a shaky fortress in a war with ourselves. we stumbled through the math. pretending to know how we arrived at this sum. but truth consists only of division. 

it sorts. it makes smaller. it proves what we refuse to know. 

slender lightning bolts in a lingering storm. we chased the smallest islands as we drifted out to sea. we readied ourselves to drown as we realized how deep it was. 

we took the candy. though we knew it was poisoned. hunger superseded.  we embraced the sickness. 

we slept in the empty bed. we wrote by the dim light. thieves with broken fingers. peeling the words from our fraying flesh.

that voice in our head still  screaming long after anyone was still listening.