I can’t go back
Woman’s glancing eyes over counter like a child about to steal for the first time
That small piece of candy
The gun in her pocket
Pointed in between my eyes
Breathing loudly, startling no one but the opaque
Their preferred perspective of clouds aligning
It’s doom you’re staring in the face
Now with no weapons
Alone but perhaps also afraid
Of what is to come
The soothsayer’s guilt of giving info to the jester
The jester’s guilt of not smiling enough
The smile’s guilt of revealing oneself
The guilt of opaqueness shuns itself once again
History incarnate
The sound of cybernetic cellphone calls
Repeating over and over waiting for some change
Please for the love of god say something different
Please for the love of me say something different
For god say a different prayer
The erosion of time
Blending past present and future into primordial goo
Growing
Filth on the top
To be scraped away, deduced to festering scum laying somewhere else
The world is
Grey matter on the floor
Vomit
Brains
And conversation
The trepidation of the soul
Boring into the frontal lobe
The absence will be well documented
In a cold room
The silence of temperature
Mercury descending
Hearing bad news
Hoping for questions and not statements
Uncertainty is important