(no subject)

[thetapehiss]

and as i'm floating out the window, like smoke would rise and not a balloon, i feel myself separate into a lot of little pieces. i don't remember anything about the room i was in, only that it hurt me, and it hurt me bad. lean into me, she said, but all i could do was fucking push her right into the dirt, and kick her throat until it couldn't scream anymore. but then the sun had risen and the neighbors had come outside, and they were all greeting the day with showering smiles and walking dogs. i floated by all of them, and they each looked up briefly from their cracked and bleeding cellular phones to look, before i passed away like a missed fucking call. i even reminded the trees of their frailty, as i wisped through the holes in the leaves that the caterpillars had made. the asphalt pushed me up to help me walk along and look less wine-ridden than i actually was. the sun peeking over a treeline and under a cloud shone on the bottom half of each of my legs. it made me feel like i could run fast, like i could run so fast that i could leave this and go somewhere special like boston or new york or new jersey. i, the smoke, loved certain people here so much that i wanted to not leave them, but they knew what they wanted too. they were just too scared to act on anything. the boy luke was lying on the dining room floor with his face down and with his right sandal having fallen off his foot. i crept towards him like an animal that looks scarier than it actually is, and i kissed his back, i kissed his nape, i kissed the wisps of hair that floated above his neck. he deserved every second of it, and he even stirred slightly as i released my wavy pressure from his back, but nothing i could do would wake him up. no one can wake up someone who wants to sleep, who wants to forget. the cells in your brain that deal with memory, they really ARE sonsofbitches to kill, because hey, who wants to forget when you could instead wallow and weep EVERY NIGHT about a something that you can't even put your finger on. i'm still floating, still feeling my way around, hopefully not too nosily or too meekly. my brother's old room is filled with the thousand trophies and medals that he somehow got presented with. he is a really good liver, he just lives well.

that wasn't really wholly about me, don't worry