(no subject)
Smells of late night martinis fill the air among the backwash of asphalt and cigarettes. The room is dark and the seats are about half filled with drunken idiots and lady’s who choose to take them home for their quick one night stand. The only person of interest would be the man with the long coat and hair in his eyes. Reaching inside his jacket, pulling out a pencil and a small spiral notebook. Taking some time to write down a few words, rip it out of the book and throw the paper at me. It reads, “your life is fiction and pointless”. Resting the paper in my right hand, a pencil is stabbed into my left and the only way to escape would be through the window over my left shoulder. Perhaps its time to face up to my insecurities and use spoken words in this situation. Ill trick myself into opening my mind just for one second as the conversation enters my ears letter by letter but never actually forming words. It seems as if there are misspelled paragraphs that form above my head for everyone else to see, but even in a mirror I cant understand the words tangled within each other. With blood in my hand and broken legs from the fall, the dark man scratches his head as he piers into the alleyway. Was it a forth story suicide or was there a landing was made? He wouldn’t care that much, just a chance to see my body suffering in pain would make his black and white heart turn red. Only I know that you must keep your feet in front of you even if death is right by your side. Do you choose to have your face melted to the pavement as a car drives down the street or can you keep moving, as the light doesn’t seem so far? It seems as if its so far away but I can just taste the victory as my eyes have already cross the starting line. This will be my last stroll through the exploding mind-field where my head rests. One wrong stride and I could become pieces, but I know each step like twenty thousand feet walking over my forehead. Curse me if my eyes are wide open with each time I leave home they get closer to falling out my head. Catching them isn’t necessary if they happen to fall, but stepping on them as you see the green outline will paste a smile over my face. Walking towards the light, crossing the night into the morning coming to realize the one thing I have learned over many years. Within the end all you need to be able to do is feel because the only thing that will be coming your way is torture straight out of the heart.