EXTENSION CORD TO SELF

I haven’t slept in days. Chaos installed catharsis; this machine structure of humane perfection held upon a broken shelf. Constellations map deceit. Deceit is nothing more than the hallow self of abandonment. I am ambidextrous; I can do many things with both my hands. This beautiful masquerade has been crunched together piece by piece. The inner body of tenacity has fallen from your thoughts. Praise your conscious. Fear your conscious, it’s all just another trick; another guilty tease. And I’ll play along with your facade so please, please wipe the ashes from yourself. Stare at the sun and will you go blind? Your actions are a stranger. How I have found comfort in the impenetrable fortress of danger. Your memory has helped me through so many lonely nights. Black, white and grey lack any form of color. The tattered glossary of emotional functions in perpetual footsteps leading to the empty bowl and I’ll play along with your facade, in a vat of emptiness. It’s all because, she’s so ripe. If we run for cover, I will bury you. Substance resides in the bottle of emptiness, and emptiness is better then the cup you’ve poured. Your riches mean nothing.

-The Informant

Pick up this doll and watch the girl dream. Cups spill what holds tomorrow. Clenching the fist, raising the brow as glass enters the vein. Justice shines in her dark eyes as an amber sky drips a tear upon a sunset. This is seraph’s dream; ten crowns drop. Parchment paper crumbles when the curtain falls. Shade this tribulation in pastels. Silk feelings hurt. The river holds the color you describe as love.

-The Number Twelve Looks Like You

Hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before. What it was. I’ve brought this on us more than anyone could ignore. What I’ve done. I’ve worked for so long just to see you mess around. What you’ve done. I want back the years that you took when I was young. I was young, but it’s done. Oh, take it all away. I don’t feel it anymore. We’ll fall just like stars being hung by only string. Everything, everything here is gone. No map can direct how to ever make it home. We’re alone. Oh, take it all away. I don’t feel it anymore.

-William Fitzsimmons

The thing never now, were you (unintelligible). You’re gone and I won’t see you anymore. You left my love on the run and said that you were leaving and you won’t come home again. And I’ll miss you like you’re dead but I never got to grieve you cause I saw you in the arms of someone else. So your phantom follows me like a child would his mother or a lover who never said goodbye; it’s only saying goodbye. And I cry myself to sleep. And you thought I was happy; I was lonely. Had nowhere to go. And I heard that you moved on found a brand new family and changed your married name; and everything has changed. And I’ll miss you like you’re dead and find a way to grieve you cause I need to try and start again. And your ghost will have to leave like a child would his mother or a lover who has to say goodbye. It’s always say goodbye.

-William Fitzsimmons