Cavities.

the game goes: murderer, open your eyes, and choose someone to kill. angel, open your eyes, and choose someone to save. and then they all guess who in the room is the murderer, and who in the room saved. and nobody saves their breath. and nobody saves themselves. and nobody saves their own sleepless nights.

needed, is someone to sleep with. why is this. why. needed, is an open window. but there is no strength to walk the sixteen inches to where it is, and open the curtains. because headaches plague, in the morning, sometimes.

what are you? what, what am i. murderers and angels? hardly.

and so lives are lived in numbers. seventeen point five. twenty two. five point five. eight. ninety nine. ninety three. one hundred and eight.

and all this time, we were wrong. lives are not lived in numbers. lives are lived in letters.

when will we all wake up and realize that?

that life has nothing to do with these measures? when? aren't you tired? darling darling, aren't you tired of not being called darling? aren't you tired, of not being brave enough to brave you? aren't you tired, of being so tired that you wake up in exhaustion?

murderer open your eyes, and choose someone to kill. angel open your eyes, and choose someone to save.

i can't kill. i can save. i can't close, (always). i can speak.

i am speechless in the fact that everything i say has a more important set of words somewhere underneath. but i forget that language, and i never learned that grammar, so i have to live with what i know. all i know is keys like pianos, so i just type.

All I Know. here is all i know. take it in your hands. drink it like it's milk. isn't that sad? we are so afraid of milk, because it's thicker, sweeter, stronger than water. we think instantly of numbers

and when we were too small to care for ourselves, we depended on milk to live. our bodies are mostly water, but we needed milk to live.

this is all i know. this is all i know. this is all i know.

i want to be in a loft, an apartment. wooden floors, maybe. chipping walls, definite. noise at night, always noise at night. and i walk around the expanse of the floor with soymilk (fake milk, sweeter milk, less intimidating milk) in my blue china teacup, and when i turn from whatever i was looking at out the window, i want to meet nothing but open arms. that are warm, and that remind me, always, of something warmer than myself.

but i'm warmer than myself.

we want: wings
sex
spirit

we have: wings
sex
spirit

we want:
Understanding.

and we:
Understand.

wake up. wake up. i am no murderer and i am no angel. i'm just asleep.

i'm just awake. i'm awake.
i'm awake.





hold on.
so i hold on.

and all i know is what i know.

and i know these bones and i know your body and i know my want and i know your lies
but i never even
knew your
s o u l.

Reviews

[KUFU]

WOW. Really feelin the format of this creative write. Seems like you just went with the flow of things. Interesting and nice.