Subjects And Services

Wouldn’t you know it, but your beautiful face is all I have left. You would have never guessed it.
This is a feeble attempt at collecting my thoughts when they are purely scattered.
Purely, in a way that is innocent or pure. Thorough and definitive.
Just short drives. Short drives, nothing too far or risky.
We stay within safety. We stay within comfort.
Within radius and ambit. No. No comfort.
Do not prepare to be let down.
I am attempting something.
Obscurity by numbers.
Sheer amazement.
Nothing spared.
Cowards.
Stop.
Start.
Stop.
Courage.
No one cared.
Utter bemusement.
Infinite by slumber.
I am attempting something.
Do not prepare to be anything.
Comfortable in a new home. Comfort.
We embrace the vulnerability. Stay close.
Nautical miles. Dark red vials. Mountainous piles.
Traditional, established. In a white picket fence type of way.
This is a feeble attempt at scattering my thoughts when they are purely nostalgic.
Wouldn’t you know it, but there is substance surrounding me. You would have never guessed it.
I guess I should apologize for limiting my story telling. I just try so hard to write with a vengeance.
Vengeance. But why? I should have none. I deserve none. Just four digits and a short drive.
That’s all I’ve ever asked. This envelope torments me because I can’t open it. It won’t.
So I decided to write back and this time I make two copies. You can’t read them.
I can’t show you. It would ruin it for everyone else. The ones that can see.
Don’t try to resist. Don’t tempt your own curiosity. I have you.
In the mornings they scheme. Then they are tense.
They sear and are charred. Not burnt.
They are chomping at bits.
They line up to see it.
The parade.
Courage.
Stop.
Start.
Stop.
Cowards.
The discipline.
They line up to see it.
They are disgusting in laughter.
They freeze and are dried by the sun.
At night they fester. Then they are tranquil.
But we will not lose our discipline. Not yet devoured.
My friends once had friends. Now they have acquaintances.
And they smile and lie as if I can’t see through it all. Well dressed.
Well dressed but less inclined. Less inspired. Less like themselves. Less.
Reduced to marionettes just like the ones we hated. I dare you to question sacrifice.
I dare you to pretend like you were never side by side for the years that shaped who you are.


Furthermore.
I dare you to pretend like all of the photographs aren’t real. Tell me they are purely mirages.
I dare you to pretend like this would have been possible for either of us without the other.
I dare you to pretend like we wouldn’t love to see you two maintaining something that’s a part of me.
I dare you to pretend like I never asked you to take care of my brother. One simple request.
Tell me that a house of full of dynamite could be streamlined to static. Two houses. No noise.
You have wild imaginations if you thought you could ever just erase anything from recent memory.
But no. I digress. No vengeance. I don’t deserve it.
Start.
Stop.
Start.




WW