::11:26:07::

::: Slit Wrists Sing Like This:::

Something like
the big bang
one chance
drunken shot for the stars at midday
that starts crusades for invited diversions
maybe what’s behind the antics
isn’t so alluring after all
but its better to experience the denial first hand
then to crave its charismatic presumption
that all is well
trust doesn’t matter when you’ve taken that first step
worry about the pain after the plunge
and keep your ears to the ground
too much of what we heard as children
only makes waiting in line for your turn to expose
those overemphasized shows of bravado even harder
(in front of stained glass mirrors and beauty pageant runner ups)
whose only refuge was in perfume soaked refusals
and whose only friend has a slight disorder
that borders on the outskirts of vacancy
makeshift redundancy?
who’s standing outside with our answers
by the throat?
in their endless cries for context
amidst threats and against convoluted austerity
(homicide inst some way to get onto the 10 o’clock news apparently)
where things aren’t what they always seem
between applied life experience and regrets
not losing faith in your tolerance for discrepancies
is a stereotype waiting to happen
are you really ready to be that shallow?
have you taken the necessary precautions as to how this will all end?
perhaps a change of scenery is needed
to allow for better acceptance of the obvious:
what we wish for tomorrow
and what we lose sleep over
doesn’t want to let go of this feeling
of being needed

Written by: ~ Christian Melendez

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