dotted lines,
cut across the dotted lines.
You think you'll be fine, till that razor meets the meat grind.
Swallow the aluminum monologue of permanent epilogue,
fun facts run facts till your never off.
Bled like an animal,
never soft,
contusions leave to intrusions of your mental loft.
Higher and hire the wire snipping crier will blind anyone who will defy her.
Liar,
a post morbid break down of sappy faced sadistic sound,
you'll be bleeding once the head is found,
might as well shut up and face the ground.
Serial killer society,
defining the moral code for 'happily ever after' propriety.
Sigh with me,
till that definition gives you gray hairs,
and blank stares to show you that the understanding was never there.
One second is enough time to cut lines,
dotted lines,
cut across the dotted lines.
I think we leave vines around our crooked necks,
just to see who pays out with greasy checks.
Limit-less,
holding breaths till you asphyxiate and deliberate with death,
a solid death where rigormortis stiffens the stiffs stiffer ends.
Blends in like watercolor smeared over pen,
so fucking poetic,
so very fucking 'trend'.
---
There was a light fog starting on the cold glass. It would bleed out a haze over the clearness just to suck back in to not existing. There was nothing there to create such miraculous condensation but then again I've never really needed an explanation for most things. I touch the glass to see if the fog can be wiped away before it disappears. My hand moves to touch the cold just to feel the moisture dissolve under my finger. The fog did not retract, it remained as it was on the surface of the glass. This time I had clearly disturbed something. Feeling no sense of remorse for what I had done, I continued to sketch something into the residue. The letters 'Y', 'O', and 'U' were all that I could think of, though it seemed strange I had nothing better to vandalize this with. With that I turned away from my distraction back to the meandering jostles of the city bus. There was no one on it this early morning. Just me and the bus driver, stopping at every stop to pick up no one and letting no one off. My destination wasn't very far but it seemed he was taking a route much longer than the one I travelled on these fine Sundays. Instead of bothering him I just watched through the large windows for signs of my street.
Where was everyone? For a straight fifteen minutes we travelled with just the loud whir of the engine proving that the bus was still moving and stopping, then moving again. It was really quite disturbing and if I had half a thought I would have gotten off at the very next stop. At least, I assumed there'd be another stop. I rose from my seat while the bus was still in motion just as the driver decided to take a sharp left. I was thrown into the seat opposite the one I had previously sat in. The bus heightened in speed, and this was where the common sense gland in my brain finally started excreting vital juices. This was not a normal bus ride. This was not a normal bus. Nothing about this was the same as it'd always been and I could've called that from the first five minutes of being on it. Instead I played oblivious and marked the glass with my breathe's moisture. Who would've thought the day would come. The day that would force me to be worried about the wellbeing of the planet's people, all except me.
---