Typical Depression

Dreams of sleep carry me into forever night, The Kingdom of Darkness, I abide by individual wandering shadows; a half circle of bungalow porches surrounds my presence, I come to visit a woman cast inside blackness, her hair waves into shoulders.

"Is somebody there?"

Unknown to me are silent whispers of elemental recognition.

"Oh it's you. He's been looking for you...."

My travel discovers a London park; a replicated graphical depiction substitutes inside the city I am deaf and blind.

"Hey it's you! Yo Yo Yo! Smarter than the average bear!"

His hair is sun melon warmth loosely parting gentle roundness, he is a petite person; his left hand carries a muggy detached teddy bear head.

"I shan't be needing this any longer."

My mind lies inside the trash receptacle, I urge night's feathery feet closer to a white barrel, the park attendant interjects my remission.

"You don't want this! Tis no good at all."

Dawn befalls a familiar zone; I continue to drift inside an unfamiliar world.

Mighty Mouse is speaking however I am unable to unify an entire person for audible impression; nevertheless somebody is watching, her name is Memory.

"I'll be wearing white. No worries Sun."

I reach out my right hand touching underneath his eyes, I feel each line of contemplation breaking surface, a tear drop moistens my index fingertip to thumb squeezing natural woe for chemical reasoning. My body lifts an erect abrupt breakage, I am caught inside a frequency shard threatening my essence if I cannot overcome my self.

Diesel's entrance is a neatly arranged survival kit he plans for imprisonment; sentimental pieces of us, differential crafts, sweet oranges, cans of herbal tuna, wheat crackers, flashlights, candles. Mookie is a statue of madness, her steadiness is formidable for any ignorant breach of otherwise, none shall mark her as territory, blue illuminating rays reflect around her coronas; she is ready for what we cannot interpret as wise or unwise. My shell shock vibrates sensation; Mookie's face is permanence.

"Diesel yours is going to be unusual."

"..what do you mean Ookie?"

"...."

"The guards would bring me things from their homes....."

"You ain't feel the same huh Sunny?"

Wailing convulsions strike me onto polished non slip wax pavement; a stronghold gathers me to stare into nothingness, I barely breathe a moment.

Jeremy wishes to see me before leaving.

"I'll see you soon Phelia."

Kate holds both of my clamped disorganized knuckles as acknowledgement; my foreboding sentimentality springs many leaks, I suffer torrential rainfall.

"I understand now."

Cordelia's tears quicken me, each liquid spherical woe wanes a mysterious moon; she cuddles inside my arms as we hold one another's anguished unbecoming I hum a song ours listen prior to recording. Tex watches my child stream slowing waters, his dilating coronas widen untold trauma yet to be seen.

"We's going there one way or another."

"Why?"

"Some place you never been.....that's why."

"....."

"You don't want to see where I'm from?"

"Not in such a manner."

"I been everywhere with ya'll."

"Not everywhere."

"What else is there?"

"Someplace very dark."

"I ain't afraid of no dark."

"....."

"Where's it at?"

"You'll see."

Cordelia's zealous heedlessness treads for Braid's hug; she is our fuchsia warrior evermore.

"Cannot be that.....Vic...?"

"I ain't afraid of no dark."

"Blackness hath no formation."

"I seen a black cat before."

"Vic...."

"Thus no cat Sir."

"Then what is it?"

"Non exposure."

"What's that?"

"Realm without sensory objects."

"Who needs those anyways."

"The mind literally wanders."

"How did you get there?"

"That is where we come from."

"How did you...."

"....."

"I'm not sure if we ever...did."

"Vic."

"Yes."

"Let us talk while these two discuss furthermore."

We walk a pebbled narrow street, I pass each colored stone for recollection; grayish blue, red purple, olive earth, pearl smoke, sad passion fruit lipstick smudge.

"....."

"Braid...."

"....."

"Braid."

"I cannot understand why anybody would desire for another to suffer when theirs is equal."

"Neither can I."

"What if none of us survive?"

"Will we return?"

"We die from battle....or so we thought."

"....."

"He is a stranger in a strange land."

"We shall be as well."

"My husband."

"My wife."

"I miss you."

"I miss you."

Braid stares into landscape town; porcelain homes, wooden terraces, hidden staircases.

"Our child is debating with Tex."

"Lucid awaits....."

".....?"

"They're preparing a grid."

"...."

"Proposal of sorts."

A sigh of air cumbers her shoulders, I kiss each dearer to me than any journey's peak.

"I care for only one proposal."

"...?..."

"Marrying you."

"We are not?"

"I wait for you."

"......?..."

"To say I do."

"You say it for me."

"I am not you."

"You are me as I am you."

"....."

"I always feel a breeze upon my chest and my neck is asunder."

"Your belly button desires me."

"I feel that way now."

"You taste like coffee cologne."

"I see a man standing before us."

"Your ear tickles my lips."

"He looks at me so strangely."

"What is inside your shirt pocket?"

"I've seen him many moments; I recall."

"Your ring....?"

"He calls me number one."

"You keep it inside parchment paper."

"I would like him to meet my wife."

Property of Rolf

"She has curly hair and cocoa...."

"Rolf?"

"If I can keep my hands off her."

"Rolf!"

"I see her when I sleep, rarely ever, I dream of her soft....."

"....."

"I wonder if we are real."

"Your belt comes undone so easily."

"I am so worried."

"What is inside there that you want?"

"Cordelia."

"....."

"We...."

"Where is Braid?"

"She's kicking Tex's ass."

"Oh."

"What brought such?"

"He said she was black."

"Well...."

"....!...."

"He said she enjoys blackness so much she might as well be gosh darned black."

"Then...."

"He said Texans don't like black people."

"?"

"He said Texas does not favor blackness over the field."

"Dearest me."

"I really should say something when he looks at me like that."

"Did she...do that arm thing...?"

"I think about her every moment."

"You could at least button him."

"I am doing so...."

"There is an eagle on his belt buckle."

"Tex gave it to her."

"He's getting his ass kicked."

"What did you do when thus began?"

"I walked away."

"?!"

"You told me to walk away from a fight."

"Pears...."

"....."

"....."

"I really...."

"...."

"...."

"Looks so...."

"..."

"..."

"I do."

"Dearest me."

"Dearest me."

Tex and Braid sit together giggling for misunderstandings; both tend injuries with pillowed ice cases.

"Ain't any blackness in those big houses."

Braid drains excess melt.

"He speaks of such occasionally."

We turn to look at his immense frown.

"Especially that one."

Cordelia carries him a glass of chamomile tea brewing a teaspoon of desert honey.

"That one got lots of green."

Zen is a shade of pink exhaustion; she unfolds the parchment paper.

"I wonder who wrote this."

Braid concentrates upon worlds which come undone.

"That one got lots of blue."

I dream of Lucid brushing hair away from my bloody cheeks; she is overwhelmingly relieved.

"How did I get blood on my cheeks? Tis not from me."

"How did I get blood on my cheeks? Tis not from me."

"Cordelia did you just dream?"

"Sir did you just dream?"

"That one got lots of bricks....look like scabs."

"Zen...."

"Pears..."

"Zen."

"Flowers...."

"Moi is dreaming."

"That one got a lot of gosh darn greasy food."

Tex does not curse before children.

"Chocolate tips...."

"Would you like some more tea?"

"Reminds me of babies."

"Pears..."

"Compressed hyper imposed situations."

"....."

"Burnt hair."

"Sleepy...."

"Chocolate and pears...."

"Very strong..."

"That one got a lot of butt buddies."

"So sensitive..."

"....."

"Water dripping...."

"That one got a lot of nurses."

"So sleepy...."

"I wonder if...."

"Very strong...."

"That one got a lot of peanut butter."

"Brain ruptures for a mortal."

"That one got a lot of white sheets."

"Hhhmmm...."

"Hhhmmm."

"Hhhmmmm...."

"Hhhmm.."

Ebony's left forearm straddles Ruby's mid torso, her right hand caresses his collar; my Twin faces her profile.

"Thus sickens him."

"Lucid....?"

"She is running."

"....."

"I'm going to go look for her."

"Tex..."

"Yep..."

"Not a simple task."

"Only one place she can hide."

"Where is that?"

"Where I come from."

Amethyst my dearest, I am searching for a scientist, how peculiar indeed; we must understand this predicament lest we will be lost inside a dream.

"She locked me inside a closet!"

"How did you get out?"

"She locked me inside a closet..."

"There are string particles on your head."

"That one got lots of stringy things."