A time on a Wednesday wasn’t what we knew. Filing mindsets. Can you get up now. Can you piss. Can you speak. It is Wednesday. The wall gripped itself and ran down to the floor. We hadn’t seen that. -Somewhere the sun shines, smiling, like they ask for. Smiling at all of you. Smiling.
Doors that won’t lock and steam that rises not enough. A smile pressed upon the see through door. What happens when a nothing of a thought dies. Begging to begin again with the same thought. Asking again with the same question. Can I come in. Still is the heart that sees.
We walk into the shadow of death to pull one wounded child from its depths, to find another daft man standing in the corner. Leaves are shuffling outside my window. A man with a golden heart is gone. Another stands in a room looking. Don’t block me. I am here and at least I have my fingers. The man in the room standing, looking daft, asks for silence because silences never questions. Never says a damn word. The girl with the golden brow would have cared for a word. And the boy with the covers pulled tight would have cared for the same.
Fill the bags. Fill them all. Tell them not to talk. Take a walk with me. Hold my hand. It is dark. The purple has spoken in our face with breath of beer. Hide our forehead. Hold my hand. Out our bedroom door is the hallway. This hallway is different. It has holes. The bathroom is more different than the hallway. The holes in the bathroom have eyes.