Creeper

Relapses occur for the dilemma of Victoria's Principle available in hardback written by my English teacher, rare as freedom, perhaps stealing of any kind would be acceptable if respect is valuable infamy; I am quite sure anybody who reads the madman is aware of misconception birthing haters indulging their own self belonging to none of us however we surrender to prove stupidity forms numbers, the math is yet to be equated.

The Queen vows midnight while a child runs from a pick pocket's shadow into my crimson gown; I am runaway royalty surveying the kingdom of darkness and damnation. His eyes are frozen inside of me while dropping a picture of an anonymous woman, she disappears alongside Chevrolet exhaust trails.

"Damn Chevy!"

"The moon we see is named Chevrolet."

"What's a moon?"

"An orbital nomad."

"What's it made out of?"

"Chalk....."

"I go to school but they don't see me."

"Why did you take the picture from that man?"

"Somebody asked me."

"Who?"

"They're gone....."

"What is your name?"

"Don't tell anybody!"

"I will tell everyone."

"Why?"

"Tis your name."

"Tevin...."

Clergy relieve me from duty, I am expected to recover a ransomed monk from imprisonment, the monastery is hidden inside a repossessed mansion. After many devout parishioners leave me prayer notes I burn each through a lava stone furnace dreaming of enemies becoming ashes. I leave wearing a night earthen cloak, floating a valley of unmarked dead children, my defeat is an emotion I cannot defend. Seven hundred and eighty-three skeletons rise to possess calcium phosphate; I carry no weapon, hanging upside down is a dying man's cross. Foot steps topple burning grass amongst fallen dilapidated leaves, my senses are denied access to the world we left for another we blindly undertake. Ambrosia comes silently, in his right hand is a double edged sword to brass pine handle; my dismay wears a shoulder of my companion, I am carried away counting the bones of child molesters.

Tevin - adored by the Queen, damned by their enemies, triumphant through loyalty

Ebony commissions a platform constructed of planks; she lifts me upright, my callused feet upon her motorcycle boots, we walk together. A gentle palm leans my lower back inward balancing bow legs, Braid is cheerfully chomping tuna steak, Ruby questions whether we will be switching our presence for innumerable stages.

Thad is holding me close to a corduroy sport jacket I thrift hunted, he sits upon the side of a bed, face pressed into fingers as mine comb his wild dark hair; he speaks to me softly and angrily of a woman whose bitchiness is the epitome of suicide. This odd occurrence of mutual regret brings me wrapped in a brother's arms, his tears are cold upon my hormonal break outs; I feel this to be the last, an enemy attempts to tear him away while I am induced subconscious coma, her words are strange, he grips for life however fears us harm. I listen to soft sneaker rubber, Adidas we ordered together, he places an electrode upon my jogging heart monitoring the motion; my inquiry is a vague whisper while he begets evil laughter.

"What about you?"

"I plead for you not cause him harm; you will hurt my heart immesely."

"I'm really worried about you."

"If you worry for me you should worry for him."

"What if I don't like him?"

"Do you like me?"

"A whole bunch."

One arm points to a vessel underneath a blue oxford, the other creates an invisible circle misplacing the demon's halo.

"Then you will like him. Please give him a chance lest you will never know me."

"What if I hate him?"

"Then you will hate me."

"You're the same?"

"I would not be who I am without him."

"I'm sick."

"You are closer....."

"What if I die before I can give him a chance?"

"You won't come back."

"What is there to come back for....."

"A woman in a boat."

"Why is she in a boat?"

"She is a scientist searching for an answer to....."

"What the hell does she have to do that for!"

"She does not know why we are here."

"Why are we here?"

"Experience...."

"What if we experience everything?"

"We will experience experience."

"So if I mess with him I will be hurting you?"

"Yes."

"I can't promise anything."

"Why would you do such?"

"I don't know."

"Stupid....."

"Well that's probably why!"

"He's handsome."

"Is that why you like him?"

"Yes."

"That's superficial and conceited."

"He is handsome from the inside to what appears to be."

"I don't get it."

"Seven."

"Huh?"

"Seven moons."

"That makes my lungs hurt."

"You have no idea."

I look at him for moments of concentration impressed by intellectual health; this man is suffering from smoke. Any words I choose to speak wisely will not convince him otherwise concern is death of action; to each of us an organ is assigned by literal physical incompatibility conjoining grace to disgrace as one sacrilegious testament. Kevinya - throat, Braid - digestion, Kat - defensive glandular function, Ruby - left portion of the cardiovascular system, Lucidity - right brain, Ebony - left brain, Tusk - right column muscle, Fiasco - left column muscle, Leona - offensive glandular function, Cordelia - outward skeletal joints, Victoria - inward skeletal joints, Xenya - left respiratory, Nadia - right respiratory, Snow - bones, Ambrosia - crimson vessels, Crystal - purple vessels; the symphony is operated by sorrow, orchestras are influential of living music etc. of which epoxies the epigraph of episodes.

"Francis what do you wish of me?"

"For you to be there when I die."

"You will die?"

"Yeah I'm a Bootie Brute."

"I don't know what that is...."

"Somebody who works their ass off."

"Dearest me."

"You think I'm too small to do that stuff?"

"No....."

"I want you to make sure I am safe wherever it is that I go to."

"I don't know if I will ever see you again."

"They're going to do something to you and your court."

"Oh....."

"It has something to do with bats."

"Do they know about the bats?"

"I figured that part out myself. That's why it won't hurt you but you'll be really sad."

"Will you be there when I am sad?"

"I'll be sad with you."

"I am always sad."

"The kind of sad that's coming for you is hatred."

"Do they beat you?"

"No.....what's that?"

"Good."

"I need to know why you asked me that."

"Better you do not; history is a fool's game."

"Then why do you bring it up like a question?"

"Making sure thus does not repeat itself."

Avie's blue eyes are centrifugal force of belated magnetism, any person within her presence understands none can wear my Water Carrier's disguise; I dream often and fear for my children to be deceived by vaporized elusiveness for an ego mania kidnapping the essence of whom they call out lunar dementia. I am here however cautious a game I dumbfound for sworn lessons teachers cried tears of madness I shall not play smart or stupid.