Feb 2015
Find me in the far East with a bow in hand and a tree at my feet and a deer fleeing to the sunrise. I hope to find a way to escape the sun before it overtakes me. The deer seeks light. I seek nonbeing. The tree has been destroyed. The North still governs where I set my feet.
Find me upon layers of ice with an ax in hand and a mammoth at my feet, buried under a million years. I cut through a thousand and then a hundred thousand and then I’m there and my ax is cutting into ancient, frozen blood and my own is flowing and I am dying a million years ago. Snow begins to fall. The million years ago meets the now and I have an adequate grave.
Find me in a casket six feet underground with a rope around my throat in case I escape again. It’s happened twice. This time, when I wake, the rope will secure me and I will not be able to dig myself out. This is good. This is what my family wants. It makes things easier. It’s good.
Find me awake in my casket, hands ****** and lips bloodier. I kiss the silk lining of my coffin and the rope cuts off my breath and my claws cut through the rope and I push forward and wet soil falls into me. It is raining. I escape the graveyard in my white and red and brown suit and I hide in a trash bin before they can find me and **** me and bury me again. This is the eleventh time I’ve escaped. It is the last. My veins are filled with preservative and it is colder and drier but I am alive and that’s all that matters. The sun comes soon. I’m not ready for it.
Find me on desert sands with a rope in hand and a horse nearby, thirsting for the river a mile off. I am mesmerized by an image before me. It shows an island. My mind tells me that the island is where I want to be, so I mount the starving horse and make my way to the island. I am clad in a white and red suit and the horse pales and they call me Death. They call me Death because I scare their children at night and I seek the island that harbors my dreams. I don’t know that the grains of sand beneath the hooves of my horse are lives.
Find me on that island and know that this is my destiny.
Find me upon layers of ice with an ax in hand and a mammoth at my feet, buried under a million years. I cut through a thousand and then a hundred thousand and then I’m there and my ax is cutting into ancient, frozen blood and my own is flowing and I am dying a million years ago. Snow begins to fall. The million years ago meets the now and I have an adequate grave.
Find me in a casket six feet underground with a rope around my throat in case I escape again. It’s happened twice. This time, when I wake, the rope will secure me and I will not be able to dig myself out. This is good. This is what my family wants. It makes things easier. It’s good.
Find me awake in my casket, hands ****** and lips bloodier. I kiss the silk lining of my coffin and the rope cuts off my breath and my claws cut through the rope and I push forward and wet soil falls into me. It is raining. I escape the graveyard in my white and red and brown suit and I hide in a trash bin before they can find me and **** me and bury me again. This is the eleventh time I’ve escaped. It is the last. My veins are filled with preservative and it is colder and drier but I am alive and that’s all that matters. The sun comes soon. I’m not ready for it.
Find me on desert sands with a rope in hand and a horse nearby, thirsting for the river a mile off. I am mesmerized by an image before me. It shows an island. My mind tells me that the island is where I want to be, so I mount the starving horse and make my way to the island. I am clad in a white and red suit and the horse pales and they call me Death. They call me Death because I scare their children at night and I seek the island that harbors my dreams. I don’t know that the grains of sand beneath the hooves of my horse are lives.
Find me on that island and know that this is my destiny.
nanananana
