Wisps of failure drenched my heaving cheeks. The table still stood after fistfuls of calcium. Red mist precipitated just around the wood's edge, dripping, letting the floorboards know of my soul's anguish. They swallowed gleefully.
To take upon oneself the hidden burdens of those you love. To diffuse their otherwise inevitable sorrows far before the threshold of their inception. To not ask for a single word of gratitude, a single sliver of compensation.
Your open heart beckoned shadows of deception; like a theater stage they set the dusty curtains over my dear eyes.
Across the prarie, heavenstruck. Truckspittle shot across the middle of nowhere. Not even the driver heard the engine's wail. Metaldeath.
We had a conversation at the eve of the moon's loom, where the wolves chanted incantations to guard our words in a shelter adorned with dream-catchers.
To venerate the inceptionary is to translate the whispers of the dead gossiping about one's contemporaries.
Atop the pedestal stood a vase, empty and regal. Inside was an emotionless stem; it was decapitated by the village schoolgirls, who stuck it's petals into the threads of their luscious hair. They skipped upon the gravel road, singing triumphantly about their fresh kill.
Your tombstone dematerialized my guilt suspended by the night's stars - they loom over my head like the moon's gray stare, emotionless, evaporated from the sinews of my gaunt skin. Accupunctured were my moral densities, weighing the salted water splattered across my heaving palms.
Forever aspirationless, vein glory, atop a fortress dematerialized they chanted their hymns hellraising, until half past blue overdue were the ghosts stirred out of their noble slumber and set the city dwellers past their clock time.
It had the glint of a beckoning vacancy, compliant was the empty blue background screen, a plastic box chiming winds for absolutely no one in particular. The mouse had seats for two fingers and a palm. Gladly accepting my infantile grasp, the machination sung louder as it began to teach me its language.