(no subject)
2 cigarettes crushed beneath a rocking chair’s rungs. A couple drags off of a 3rd and clothes fall off. Falling into a semi-cold pool, drift, stair, sluggishly swim till everything feels done. Trudge up the slime wet cold steps, water sliding depressingly off. Finish the 3rd cigarette. Put the shirt, the boxers back on. No point in the shorts. Head on back inside, check through cumputer mush. Anyone send digitized cumfort, feelings, understanding? Nope. Shut down the computer, the lights, the fan, too bad can’t shut off like them, can’t just stop. Meander through the uneasy too natural darkness, up the occasionally creaky steps. Into the bedroom, flick the switch bringing startling maternal artificiality. Pull the string back to the uneasy darkness. Shirt off again, boxers stay on. Slough off onto the bed. Eyes closed, this is the cumforting darkness. Relax alittle to much and eyes slip back open. Affronted by familiar posters, pictured covered walls, the familiar bed-posts, floors, desk, ceiling. All too familiar all to close. Black again, back again, Safe again