I see her every day, lugging around that bag with all those poor men’s hearts. it hardly seems worth the labor to me but she considers them valuable.
sometimes I like to play around and take my heart out of my chest and hold it over her head and laugh as she jumps and screams, trying to grab it.
I think to myself that she is a silly creature, but no matter how amusing I consider it, I must remain wary.
at its core this is a dangerous game, and I’ve been known to be rather reckless.
maybe one day I won’t be paying attention.
then life will remind me that it calls for a certain amount of heart, and I won’t have it with me.
the world is sometimes beautiful
sometimes I stare at the ground and imagine a fiery hole opening up and swallowing me whole like all the whores from before.
when will hell finally take me? the dice are all turning up snake eyes and i know the luck is running out, I know I used too much of it too early.
but then I watch the fire ants carry away the carcass, I stare at the cracks in the ceiling until they look like something else, I feel the sweat run down my body under the sun and damnit the whores still get my attention with their short skirts bare legs cherry red lipstick and I smile to them and to life and I figure hell can wait for a little while longer,
there are still things here for me.
take it slow
the wind flowing thru the tall grass and it’s brushing at my knees and I stare far out at the clouds running up from behind wicked trees on the horizon their glowing purple white crystal forms are climbing through the clear blue ether, higher and higher.
I’m smoking a cigarette in a field along the highway and the cars are rushing by and some of them honk and scream at my slouching form standing here in nowhere.
I’m smoking a cigarette in this field along the highway and I feel myself going slowly insane, even when I promised myself that I’d never go out that way.