Under the craters of a lune de blanche
the world muse a stage
slipping beneath my feet
six characters of myself
in search of an author
rotten boards
hysteria and anxiety
monotone madness
beaten by the happiness of rain
the showers wash a man clean
but leave us here.

Under the craters of a lune de blanche.

Apathy is not the tree

in which to build a strong levy

to keep you dry and keep you free

from treacherous and clever seas.



Understanding that which was can save us all from that which is,

and that which is, is nothing more than that which was.



Mere reality, relentless poverty, destructive novelty, laughable atrocity.

Admitted scarcity, lovely society, gentle frailty, and caring propriety.



Understanding all that we are is all that we choose.

All that we choose is all that we see.

All that we see is all that can be.

All that can be is remaining free.



Skeletons can hang in places without leaving fainter traces in all the billion windswept faces.

We are all the same and we are all different. We all are hidden in plain sight, bright as day, and black as night.



CUTTHEMOFF!

BURNITDOWN!THROWITOFF!BURYITDEEPWITHINTHEGROUND!

­

Open your eyes to something more than yourself. Heartache is felt everywhere and nowhere. A hand that ticks on a clock that doesn't exist. Freedom is everything. Freedom from harsh demons inside yourself. We are the nails that are driven in our skulls. We are the woe and we are the fear.

We are hell

We are heaven.

We are love.

We are hate.

We are everything and we are nothing.



We are the ships that ferry us into the abyss of eternity. We have our own passage ways and our own light that guides us.

We are our own and we are not afraid.

tonight i'll lay in bed
and as my mind drifts
my forehead will open
and through layers of
brain, skull, and skin
will emerge a lens

upon my ceiling
a memory will project
of you taking my hands
and making me dance
while smiles lifted
our lips and took
control of our
desperate hips

i'll watch from the
outside while others
wish they could have
what we don't even
know that we have

i'll watch you look
at me the way that
you do and how
i must stand on the
tips of my toes to taste
the lips that i long for

i'll drift off to dream
of those hands that
hold mine and find
moments within madness
to make me swing,
smile, and slip
back into a place
where i found love

Down in the dark,
What some call an art,
Really just a start
To keep her from falling apart.
Brought up to make her decisions smart.
Doing what she does puts pressure on the heart,
Though it goes unnoticed like a sly, snide remark.
For most men's eyes her body hits the mark,
These men in her eyes would not be disinclined to bark.
Still the dance continues until one day she has a spot to park.
A simple means to an end
Don't get caught in the wind,
Not on the dark and the poles for her freedom depend
Anyone please but her Daddy to send
The suit she wore out of the womb is likely to offend.
The curves of her body don't seem to cease,
From the red eyes of the men that seek a release,
Pains from the past that don't ever cease,
Even dreams provide not one moments peace.
Only her fulfilled dream can make the dance halt and cease.

I don't relate to
any of this anymore.
Buildings rip the sky
blocking out the light
of stellar smiles.
If I look out I can only
see for a few feet
not miles and miles.
I've worn out the soles
of my shoes
walking the streets
that sandpaper my soul.
I don't connect to
any of it anymore.
The lights on all night
pretending to be extra-
terrestrial
or the stacks of ads
that blockade my mail
But there aren't
any letters for me anyway
cause I don't relate to this
anymore.

The first thing I felt was the dryness of my overly-chapped lips. My back ached. I hadn’t slept on a real bed in days. Leroy had left my side since I last woke. I needed to eat. The pain from the hunger was becoming unbearable. Three days without food. Seventeen house since my last drink of water. Your watch is your best chance of survival.
“Maybe I’ll find a river today.” I sighed in hope
“It’ll probably be filled with sewage and dead fish like the last two.”
I had to keep reminding myself that this world is worse than it once was.
I’ve been torturing myself with the thoughts of suicide lately. Slitting Leroy’s throat so he isn’t left to fend for himself. I was Caught off guard by something grazing my leg. My shoulders relaxed when I saw it was only Leroy.  The wet blood on his jowls suggests to me that he managed to hunt down a squirrel.
“You didn’t save any for me? *******.” I chuckled. I wish he could understand me. Something about the way he panted made it look like he was smiling at me. Maybe he could hear me.
I rubbed his neck, taking the time to admire all his individual fibers. I’ve always adored his calico coloring.
I got up. The sun was beating on my forehead. I needed a hat out hear. My watch read “December 18th, 2500. Oxygen content warning: LOW”
I remembered growing up with my mother saying how it snowed once when she was really little. She said it was only a few hundred years ago when this entire area of Canada was covered in snow. at least 20 feet of snow a year.
I never bought into her stories, though.
The sun is so hot. Mother talked about how there used to be people with pinkish skin. Pale even. That’s ridiculous. There’s a reason why everyone is dark. The sun bakes everyone.
I felt my stomach rumble. I need food.
My watch started beeping angrily, which is never a good thing. “OXYGEN DANGEROUSLY LOW” read on the screen
I shouted “Run Leroy!”
We started running, obviously Leroy easily pulling away, my feet pounding the pavement with every last breathe I had. The hard part is deciding where to run. You never know where the oxygen is. You could be running to more nitrogen and carbon. You could be running to your death.
In-fact, I think I was.
I was getting dizzy.
I couldn’t stay focused on running. I just wanted to lay down.
My foot landed on a large crack, and my foot rolled. I could feel my ankle snap.
In a daze, I managed to look down. The boon protruding from my skin.
I fell back. I started hyperventilating.
Leroy came back.
“Run, you stupid mutt!”
He wouldn’t. He just stayed there. He licked my ankle. If hurt so much but it had a pain that eventually became enjoyable.
He turned and started licking my face, trying to get me out of it. I could feel my heart feeling like it was about to erupt, all the while hearing Leroy’s pace of breathe begin to quicken.
Everything started going dark.
The last thing I saw was Leroy’s big brown eyes.
With the shadow of a man above him.