the truth is I can do this all the time, I can write this all the time, I can tap this, I can tap that ass, I can type away the voices there, here, my own. on and on it goes, he goes, they go, they go far away but always come back again. a loop. a ferris wheel. up and away but crashing back down again. without the violence of course, without the need for speed. but speed is of utmost necessity, else you miss the jumping off point, or rather the jumping on. I think of you and the urge to fumble about like this.
Monthly Archives: December 2013
Silence. Break it. IX
and they know, they must know, they must have seen heard, felt, running through the tension now, like a net, like honey, but too sweet, too sticky, it gets in their eyes, their noses, their feet trip them up but they scamper, yell, laugh, scream through the house, unstoppable, unknowable. they know and he can’t bear to look at them, wants to only hear their laughter, convince himself they don’t know when they must surely do. it’s in her voice, they listen to it, to her, because it’s off, it’s tired, it’s broken and where other children would take the upper hand these two stop and listen, to listen, the net having caught them and she says, she says, “be quiet, your father’s working”
no. he strains, he doesn’t want to hear it. close up, eyes squeezed tight. he’s listening to them listening, about to know, she says, “come here, there’s something we need to tell you”
silence. silence. don’t break it.
but she does.
in a spur
and it’s all madness and pain and loneliness and fear of the night. i want to strangle it. i want to strangle him. i want to strangle every ounce of hope out of me so there would be no fear, no heart, no memory. i would be gone, i would be dust. i would be the stain that evaporates in the sun, leaving nothing.