I'll find my own way home.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A blink of an eye, a gulp of air. A pointless and colourless existence.

Submitted: June 04, 2012

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Submitted: June 04, 2012



And all the while, the tv plays a repetitive soundtrack to a life once lived, and the media headlines are implants on the 
mind, tattooing its words on your skull-TERRORISM FEAR HIGH HIGH PRICES AIDS LOW PRICE BARGAINS
And your arms are wooden, only used to shove cardboard food into your mouth. Your children are grey and your spouse is even greyer and you're drowning in the the cesspool like a lonely sperm, afraid and frenzied, terrified. I wasn't supposed to be like this, you cry in the darkest of moments. My life wasn't meant to be this way. 
The day never dawns, it's just bleak and benign, like a weed in the cracks and your mother is back, shoving the memories in your head with her talons. Her hands crawl on the skin, they're maggots, the nails scraping away the remnants of dignity. "Please don't make me do it again and again." 

And your wife of 40, she never ages, paralysed in the bubble of 29 from when you first met. Mechanical motions, she doesn't enjoy it and you know it. Same position, same haircut, same words, same same same, skeleton in a dress, made to impress-What was your name again, wife? I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED. And the boy is four and you're ten fold older, and he's asking questions , and answers don't belong to you. How does it feel? Illusionary, the car is your life and you're the backseat passenger. WHO'S DRIVING? (Not me.) " You're a bitter pill mister, parasitic like a blister, take me home?"You're a fat cancer, Make it go faster! And faster. 

Daddy dear, why are you even here? The eyeballs stare, neverblinking. Don't you know you're a mutation? An deformed deflation, I'm blind and you're still ugly. It never ends.

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