Might of Been

Swirling into the toilet I must of shit my brains again; not going in there looking for my self.

Driving back to the oddity of suburban homes amongst all of the same, I know how to arrive, I am not sure how to get here.

Stuck in the notion of hopelessness the character of a young man of woman caught in the unknown motion, the world's turn for the flip.

"You will remember won't you Dick?"

What did these people feed me?

Sugar cavities candy nausea, drive thru windows packaged meats, lactose bricks I cried, I screamed tantrum, a spoiled self esteem obliterate, childhood forced upon damn I cannot recall feeling a thing.....neither can she.

"They want to tear you apart! Are you listening to me?"

Faster than a moonbeam I am liquid; black source of night water waves the current of being, she is not subject to the game of emotion, she is not a player, she is the swing.

Watching myself on the television box making noises similar to melody, the sound is a cash register bling; wear it well enough to hide, she is asleep.

"You mustn't believe it! You must remember me!"

Jail is a miserable temperature; not a single person to feel. Lost in calenders for the sun outside the walled view of a permitted fiberglass imitation of a window bulletproof wonder of the wanderer who could of been there if he remembered.

Grocery store marks down the clearance for vegan tummies such as the one I dream as darkness extracts nourishment for the sake of elusive memory. Aisle is empty of isolated protein how unusual; must be one of those happenings, I like it since these things of surroundings do not interest in food good to eat.

Might be perception of another realm, she heals quickly of sleepy physical ailments, pain knows her not, she knows not pain, within she is the inversion a complete opposite, within is an earth falling apart. Injured bats donate transfusion while both suffer immensely undercover; emotionally traumatized from the world neither realized even as I am not surprised.

People of routine cycle a picture show of neurological events reeling electronically synchronized to a beat inside the head of her body; this I am not concerned, for this she is caught in between.

Might of been me, might of been her, might of been us, might of happened if it was real.

Cartoons across the dullness of nonexistence portrays a stick man thick of color fleeing the scene, a girl figure with frizzing eyes clawed open in fear; subliminal nightmares of unskilled artistry again for the sake of broken pencils without erasers.

"This can only bring you closer! She will go through what you go through together! Do you understand Dick? Are you listening to me?"

"Which one?"

"You are the same! Don't you get it yet? Don't you understand! You are the same man! Without each other neither of you would exist! We wouldn't either! You need to know this! Remember.....remember.......Dick!"

"Promises are made to be broken. I will be words instead; what is written will never be broken."

Losing weight is difficult however pleasantly enlightening; she is smaller somehow I can recall, she is a much softer modesty with the confidence of a steamroller, how much I adore her, she is my twin. Not as hard without the chisel of godless hands, the excess hangs on with a stretch unreal for anatomy charts, ever so malleable of touch; her youth is the shine before an adult sun.

Evading seriousness for lighter moods, she rather not be burden of perception, somehow this does not work for me; somebody always notices. Damn she will get you for it too, admittance by me is her lunar tendency; she moves her way, if you must get in her way she moves around you, must you attempt to stop her she will walk by you, if you walk with her she is your feet. She will stop only for your self; she will stop for no one. She plays along enticing the drama; once gone we all stare at the sun. This is her sorrow for I know now she cannot do that which is not, not for anyone, not even you; this is her smallest victory which never basks triumph of indifference, she prefers death.

"It's all in your head!"

"I don't know who you are...."

"I don't know who you are that's for sure!"

Uglier than the last I assume he will return to the others even grumpier; they must despise this man. How do they tell the difference amongst them, must be numbers on their back, some mark to distinguish, so many of the same face, each hideous beyond words, each returning to the home I curse, the home I desire for anew, the home I wish to make with you.

"You missed the street it was the last turn...."

"Oh...."

Must they be so rude; never a person without knowing me dare call me a bitch. Usually for such a remark the person will be left with nothing to say again; must let this pass as I recall a dream of imprisonment which fucked with her head. Gripped to the ground with a tug of hair the creature bites to be free; this angers some other force which imposes the nightmare. Might of been me.....

"She will feel the same way you do."

Every moment I do all for her as I am an eternity; I am unsure anymore what it is to be the braggadocio of immortality.

"She will need you more than ever. You will need her more than ever."

"I need her now. I need her always."

"It will be impossible for you to be without each other. You may die...."

Death admires the silent woman of lighthearted sorrow although I am quite sure her end is that of a heart which heavies tomorrow.

"I do not desire the need of anyone. I desire the desire of everyone."

"You will desire her more than necessity."

"That is all I ever desired."

"You will remember....."

How am I here again?