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the mural's face shines
when you stare at it in your daisy gaze
listen to the words it forms as your eyelids drag you deeper
and you wake in a dead sweat with your skin a full bore heater
a sip of flat ginger ale when nothing else is better
and right out splat into the bucket first thing,
first thing after
wish there was someone else there
there, but the timing is perfect for them to be out of town
in a time astranged from your own
where our day is their night
and yesterday wasn't entirely great either
when you called...
a wet cold facecloth hairline to hairline gives a sense of dulling thereafter...
a jackhammer outside
pulses shockwaves and shockwaves to agitate your skull
and the sting of a wasp noise clashing against your dual pane
shatters thoughts
which become focused on agony
the world gyroscopically twisting
it twists...
it twists...
and when the screeching sound of the telephone bleeds into the air
you answer
answer you must
just to stop the havoc wreaked on your mind
it's as if your hand is someone elses
it moves before your eyes with terrible tracking
hello hello
it's someone you know
your hope is raised
to ask them to show
but all the strength escapes you
and woosied over a bucket
everything you say comes out in jaw daggers
and the feeling of dripping fluid
and glass sharpening itself on the skin of your throat
the only sound which utters out
is nothing...
but somehow a faint murmur...
is all that comes out