The time would be 3:00, had it not been hidden behind the countdown 10 9 8 The wavering vrrrrrrrrrrrrr of the microwave is not enough to wake The naive parental mind, causing the ideal image to break 7 6 5 The ping Of the microwave waits 4 Torn between warmth and fear 3 2 It is this moment when the panic sets in, lunges for the door
stabs the miniature metallic square The pop of door The stench of soggy noodles
And so she is safe
Until another 3:00
Hey there, Playing with space a bit with, yk, for funzies. Any comments much appreciated
One night I was a werewolf, but that got out of hand. One night you were a peach, but I preferred fresh over canned.
The blood scent was strong and on your collar, or was it spaghetti sauce? We meandered in the lost city of angels, but those women in the maternity ward were better shape-shifters.
Couldn't see if the moon was full against the polluted skyline, (but I bet it wasn't).
Then somewhere down the tracks, the howler (that's you), half a dream away on some deserted block, and flat on your back like a pancake, with the nightmares stacking up, and dripping with strawberry syrup.
i won't forget, when i cried you just looked at me and what a silly heart of mine is— it kept thinking, you will pick those tears for me and say 'i am here for you' but you were just standing in front of me like a stranger