We Hide the Knives in our Sleeves
There are 14 seconds between safety and disaster. From when we open our eyes and look around, until the world changes forever. We breathe in the quiet before the chaos.
We are all so dangerously close to the edge, ice skating around the rims of our black holes, the ones that whisper frigid sweet nothings into our ear in the stillness of the late evening. They beckon and draw us closer. We turn away. There is sensuality in the silky slowness of it all.
We draw houses around our hopes. We decorate them with rich, fluffy mulch and seasonal plants and birthday parties. We eat bagels on Sundays.
We put delicate bowls we won’t use onto shelves we don’t dust.
We pretend and pretend and we smile and we say all the things to say.
We hide the knives in our long sleeves, fingering them while the neighbor we don’t know for many years invites us to the bbq. We wave as we bring out the garbage.
We drive around and park. Oh hello there.
Can you believe the thing that is happening? Atrocious.
The people inside of us think we care about the thing.
We don’t care about about the thing.
Inside our veins, inside the flesh and outside the bone is all that exists. The deep…
