Circus Characterization

Our dilemma is what to say and what to do; we are surrounded by unwanted characters for an unnecessary unrewarding performance of people coordinated for props, their misery is invoked upon us, our misery is them. Although the instigators are perceived absolutely selfish we are unapologetic for temporary disappearances we wish to be permanent.

Factually the people whom we incorrigibly disgust despise existence therefore their actions will be selfish woe upon us; we will counteract. Husband and wife share liquid impulse with particularly our neoteric children, we will express emotions verbally; if these things feel this behavior gifts them self worth they are mutations of rude misinterpretation, if these things feel this behavior gifts them stature their expectation is none at all as they come. We may indeed be things to them as well; obviously they are in need if burden is their sole technique.

I recall a slow decline of mentality and physicality; every wise man to woman or any formation of such concluded my surrender will be an achievement for a broken boy with his broken nose. They will suffer as we do however I do realize escape angers the ringmaster hosting caged environments for each of his regrets; we may pace for his death but we are still part of the circus. He is too cowardly to open the gate.

My child's tender cheek brushes a portion of center to chin; a bump pains of me. She is watching me search for a mirror pacing insecurity while my husband joins inside the soft hand of a platinum boy. Both shed tears as we hold them for a final demon's memory.

The night is our protection; the morning sheds our armor. They come for us in between remnants of the clock, a face hosts slivered teardrop butternut squash set side by side for smacked pomegranate pulps however I am staring at a skin trace dented into an aluminum shelving should not; this deliberate gaze infuriates him, the color blasphemous of a wheel oozes yellowish bile over my neck trickling my back while I study his movements. We call him Caviar; he is touching my husband's splendor of smooth chestnut curving underneath his lips. Lucidity possesses me; five men leak saliva crossing their sunken eyes into the back of an empty skull while the sixth is a fried membrane.

"She's definitely your child."

"Rosa, will you always be a thorn in my paw?"

"You called me Rosa."

"I remember you."

"Terminate."

Victoria is Nadia's tone contoured for Ruby's architectural gesture; her volubility belongs to Cordelia, her vulnerability is mine. I carry her while she rests from knee to neck in my arms as she whispers lyrics intertwining a set of spirals.

"If ever there was a foe the dragon breathed his flame while the tiger crouched from below."

"Narcissus! He brings a girl!"

"I am no girl."

"What child do you come with?"

"Crimson and Amethyst."

"Whose does she bear?"

"The blood of our veins."

"She looks like him."

"I accept your compliment."

"Her shade is yours."

"I accept that one as well however I come here to kick your motherfucking ass."

"What is your name?"

"Victoria."

"Which Victoria will fall; which Victoria will rise?"

"Neither."

Chester is behind closed moons unto darkness; Avitas is holding her hand walking out of the room. Brad and Cindy curse at me from the hallway; they are inaudible except for a single phrase.

"Don't give up!"

Sacs of inflamed serration locks my physical vision shut; I cannot see anyone or anything except for a fuchsia snake. Braid is coming and wherever I am must be destroyed immediately. Oliver is crying adjacent to a wall from my left shoulder, he is frustrated beyond words screaming for his mother. My ankles are wrapped into firm gauntlets, I hang upside down; whipping cords slap rows of motion sensor devices equipped with blades, all of which shatter underneath our gallop. The boy is profusely directing our way out of desecration advising us caution.

"Where are the kids?"

"Ruby's got them."

"Where's he at?"

"You won't believe it."

"Rolf?"

"I don't know."

"Where was I?"

"An ultraviolet exposure chamber."

"Did they think I would melt or burn alive?"

"Do you want to ask her?"

"Yes."

"Mortal! Get the fuck up!"

"I won't heal from this."

"What do you presume the sun does to us?"

"I'm not sure."

"Put her in there."

"My thoughts exactly."

Fizzing and sizzling similar to a set of butane torch grills at Eduardo's infamous Cuban restaurant reminds me of home; I worked inside the kitchen every other moment. Our haven is a cub den next to an English Pub; the sign is a simple leaf, neon at night. The head chef instructs me I will be his apprentice until he is satisfied with his narcoleptic shadow. He calls me Suavis and dresses me for presentation. I wear Zorro's mask; Uncle Moe might desire the Anaheim Dragon.

"I am going to laugh Vic."

"No.....I beg of you."

"I can't keep it inside."

"Peeled bananas....."

"Damn you!"

An explosion contorts our lungs for grotesque expressions; oxygen is a forbidden element.

"Momma why did you laugh at her like that? She's pretty pissed off....."

"It's Braidee's fault."

"Oh shut up."

"She's really pissed off."

"Well she shouldn't look like that then."

"No shit."

"She's really really pissed off."

"It should of healed by now."

"I wouldn't be surprised if it did."

"She looks the way she did before; try to act shocked when she comes back."

"Do we have to?"

"Humor the child."

"Okay we will be good."

"I'm serious."

"Alright."

"Braid?"

"Braid...."

"Braid."

"Braid!"

"Damn it."

My child is deeply concerned for our safety; this we understand. Rosa is prevalent likeness to herself except for her scalp; a gentle dandelion fur sprouts.

"I like it."

"So do I."

"......"

"We should dye it."

"I'm thinking.....blue."

"I found a bag of powder drink in Tad's purse."

"He has a purse?"

"Yeah there were some ducks on it."

"Oh......"

Chester is chuckling a bright hue; his smile is a clear sky.

"Nah-hymen!"

"Did you hear that?"

"What on bloody earth is a hymen?"

"It's a flap of skin enclosing the vaginal canal."

"How do you know that Avitas?"

"I told her."

"Rosa....."

"I got to go now."

"Let us out of here and we will take care of the situation."

"This is something you never experienced before."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't fight them."

"Why not?"

"We fight all sorts of things."

She giggles an earth full of innocent children; our sorrow bleeds tears.

"You cry blood."

"Yes."

"I didn't know that."