Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
She could say it if
she wanted
to but
the words would
carry no
weight behind them
like a cat shaking
the paw with
you
and not understanding
the real meaning
behind
the gesture
so was her
every
“I love you.”
Enough to make an
old boy cry
but he
preferred suicide
Needless to say
her response
was
“Meh.”
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
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and the few survivors who couldn’t
fight
were lined up
along with the civilians
and shot
or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers
And dogs were trained to
tear them to shreds
and the ground became black with
their soaked blood
and over the next few days a carpet of
butterflies gathered on top of it
“It’s beautiful,” he said
She didn’t pay attention. Was too busy
removing golden teeth
from a severed head
she held in her lap. “Dammit, whoever made these
implants did too good a job. I’ve
to take ‘em with gums, alright. Look, my
knife keeps slipping.”
“Stab his eyes please,” he said
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s looking at us. I can’t
stand it.”
“Jeez, you’re such a pussy.” She quickly
stabbed the blade into
the head’s eyes one after the other. “Better?”
“Whatever,” he said. “Just hurry up
and pull those teeth.”
“I’m trying. If I had better tools though…”
He was silent for
a long time and then
he cleared his throat and said, “Hey, so… now that this
shitty war is over… like, what are you
gonna do with your life?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Get myself a few
gold teeth as extra spoils and
go back home. My mom wants
me to marry this
fat guy from the neighboring village. I probably
will then I’ll shit him out a few
kids and… well, grow old and die, I guess.”
“What? Is that it? That’s all?”
She looked at him with
a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re still
getting some. Just wait until
tonight, okay?”
“Dammit, that’s not what the heck
I meant. I meant… you know, there’s gotta be
more to life than just… just
getting married, making kids, and dying.”
“Really? Well, what are you
gonna do then?”
“I’m… gonna write. About it all. The war
and… everything.”
“Write? Like, a book? A story?”
“Yeah. It’s been my dream
since before the war started. Now I’ve the
experience to write about.”
“Bullshit experience,” she said. “Who in the fuck
d’you think will wanna read that?
What’s the story gonna say? How you
killed the enemy? Poisoned their wells? Raped
their women and enslaved their children?
Stuck twigs down the dick holes of
prisoners and broke them inside for fun?”
“Hey, I never did any of that.”
“But you were there when the
others did it. And did nothing to stop them.
It counts as--”
“Fuck! Okay, you’re right. Writing a book
about this would be
a terrible idea. Thanks.”
“Shit, look, I got one. This is solid gold.
Two more to go.”
He sighed. “Listen…”
“Yeah?”
“About that marriage of yours…”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Well, let’s just say… I mean, you know…”
“Fuckin’ spit it out already!”
“Don’t marry that fat guy from
the neighboring village! Fuck, I said it.”
“Oh? And marry you instead?”
“Well…”
“Y’know, the fat guy from the neighboring village
is the son of a fairly rich butcher. Family
business. And you… Your father’s the
drunk who hung himself to avoid paying
back his debts. You see the conflict here, I hope.”
“So all you care about is money?”
“Why wouldn’t I care about money? I want to
live good, thank you very much. This is
the real world, not some
romantic story. Wake up. I gotta make the
rational decision.”
“I thought we had… something.”
“Yeah, we fucked a few times cuz’ there
was nothing better to do. And we’ll
fuck again tonight, sure. But
that don’t mean we’re lovers now. Look, you’re
a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll find
love back at home. You don’t need a bitch
like me. I mean, if you think I’m not
gonna screw other guys
behind my husband’s back, you’re seriously trippin, boy.
So think about it, that could’ve been you. Would
you want that?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Well then, let’s get these teeth
and go have some ale. It’s on me.”
She stood and with her hand
soiled with blood
she reached out and pinched his cheek
and stretched it to force
a smile on his face. “C’mon, cheer up, damn you!
We still have a life ahead of us. Let’s
fuckin’ live it.”
“Yeah… let’s.”
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
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a songless bird
that would be the nicest
name she’d been
called
the others,
far more common,
being
that little wench
your bastard kid
the little rat
useless piece of shit that came outta you
and others
She liked the term
songless bird
It was a title worthy of her in
all the good and the
bad ways
The songless bird stands
locked in her room
and knocks and waves in
the window
for she has no voice to sing
She gives silent cries to the
neighbors and
the passersby when the noises
from the other side of
her door
get too violent
or when it smells
of smoke
Which happens
every now
and then
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she kept saying how much she
hated her tattoos
and kept showing them
to us
"Got 'em when I was young and
dumb and now I
jus' wanna rip my skin off."
She pulled her skirt up
to show one on her inner thigh. "Ugh, look at
this one. It's supposed to
be a bottle of Jack but looks
like a wrinkly dick that's about to
get in. Shit, and this one… This one
looks more like a cunt than
an eye, really." She kept pulling her
skirt up farther and farther
until it became very
clear that she
had no underwear
"You wanna touch it? she'd ask
from time to time
It was funny cuz she was in her late
twenties and we
were kids. I was twelve if I remember right
She probably got a kick
out of making young boys horny
It validated her
and we had not a damn thing to object
Good times
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there have been
too many fights lately
she was a
musician
and she put it as,
“Darling, we need to change
the tune.”
He was a
writer
and he shot her
and then himself
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it was dark and
hot
and every breath entered
with salty sweat
inside the nose
the mouth was
gagged and the whole head
covered by a
black trash bag
with two very small holes,
unaligned with her
nostrils
Her skin was itchy all
over
but there was no scratching
with hands and feet
bound to the chair
She didn’t realize that she
was in hyperventilation
and it was making things
worse
After the four hours
it took him to come back to
the basement
he found the greatest
disappointment of his life
He found her dead
There’s no feeling like
paying good money
for a toy
only to bring it home
and find that it’s broken
before you get to
play with it
He broke down and cried
for a whole hour
as he sat on her dead lap
and caressed her hair
and kissed her gagged
mouth and sucked the
snot from her nose
She was beautiful
too
Weeks later he was unable to
forget her
He carried her eyeball inside
his mouth wherever he
went
( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ MY SOCIALS!
Daydreaming as a profession 