wings on floor

wings, black scattered on the wet floor standing apart.
feet firmly on the ground, eyes staring forward.
tears all over the salty face, starting to shake up and screaming for the world to fall apart over him.
kneeling down, he promises to return when he can, but he cannot part. wet wings and slow limbs do not make a good sum.
bye kid. cut the wings, they no longer serve me any good.

first to go

red burned feet standing in front of a door, the door opens and a girl comes out. the red feet move towards her to hold her.
the hug lasts a few minutes and then, leaving the door open and lights turned on, they proceed to walk to the nearest park, about a mile away. the walk is lasting long enough to build up the scene.
first they talk, then they hold each other, and they sit on a blue bench.
when the moment comes and the red feet start to run she cries and turns home.

the happy psycho

sometimes, maybe very few times it is possible to see a smile. the grass is yellow when the frozen wind from winter tries on other suits. and then the smiler is able to make other people giggle or laugh, not that it is his intention...
snow melts and it is happy psycho time. he goes out.
when you see a bald black dressed 20 year old freak in the street please smile and wave at me, i will be pleased to hear from you.

me, thesmallshit

nevermore: the tale of the little fuckbag.
it all started when i was young. i should have guessed that when my father told me to sing "mother" from Pink Floyd to my own mom, things were not well.
and because i am a scumbag i did not react, i just stayed put like nothing happened.
and when i most expected it, hell broke loose, i even feared to get hurt (???).

yappy doo.
today was great trying to stick my neck out for you while you slept in my bed with someone else. (note: she never told me she was bisexual, although i think now, in retrospective, i would have been even more interested in her)
so, while i was shot with a shotgun (!) robbing rum from "the treasure island" brewering and liquor store, up there in straight to hell street, you were having fun with a ridiculously beautiful woman. (why did i go out...)
thank you honey. next time, i hope i am invited to your party

daydreamer/nightstalker

well, i gotta confess that even though music is on really loud and my neighbours are feeling a little bit itchy with that and the fact that i got a new pet tiger...
out in the streetcorner of my building i find a new specie of rare bum listening to Radiohead playing a rare version of Lucky with Michael Stype, he tells me that i was late to the meeting and starts running of pulling my arm.
He led me to a passage where i thought they only sold weed to the desperate, but it turns out that it was a lot much more than it appeared to the naked eye.
a girl, of about 10 was there screaming. She was screaming at us, it was way past her bedtime and we were late again. When she was done yelling she told us that we should stick together when we entered chayna town.

i got killed today.

nothing slow, just a blunt object slammed into my head ruling out inmortality. one second my face was here, the other it was all around like trying to kiss the floor.

try not to speak

lean forward and suddenly you are blinded and coughing from all the smoke around trying to break free of the air coming in sucking on your bleeding lungs that try and try desperately to cling to the heartless mass of body kneeling on the floor of the kitchen's ceiling upside downward spiral freezer coming to get that tongue of yours swapping it for someone elses that cut in your throat up and in and blood to take out the tongue from your larinxx