Gut-stained strands of hair fall from the grasp of the jagged razor’s edge. The orange wind crosses my mind, killing all the heads of pegs around me and I growl a smile, bringing my commanding fists to my great manned, as I encourage the genocidal onslaught. I curl grins from the slight massacre, a quick but trivial tribute to the fun, fun painful madness. Jammed knives turn around on the inside, separating blood from flesh,
forming lakes of beautiful acid salts. A swift pain that bends the joy of mind. Wretched butterflies sick and twitch in the mind, pushing outward to the ongoing brink of insanity, cutting fingers, bones and all, into dust puddles. We all cry and wail, but the serrated edge trickles down to our throats, choking us at that frozen time, an unbalanced moment that we can final live down. Flickered rain shivers down the putrid streaming road. A screeching matter of bound sacrilege. The hostess summer’s spirit de-strips the stained souls of God copper pilfering. As the final forsaken pillow of red and white evil lights a scene to the damned mortal plains of life, we burst and ask “Why, why did we do it?”
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