{apatheticattempt} [AKA] (contemplatingcapoteanddeathbyhanging)

and from the creation the only thing he lacked was a character and in linking words with his tongue he was able to start a sentence in the middle and take a stance on where words stood without betraying their location or intent. the glass on the edge of the window looked like the glass that kissed his forehead and collected the steam from his lungs tainted by passage through his mouth and he tasted still the stillness of his cell. through the light the air shone and rang into his ears like a metaphor that needed no completion and in breaking every rule he broke the silence that betrayed his intention and located his thoughts. outward outward he always looked outward. inward his innards were inert and inept. and the blood crept. from his heart to his extremities pooling around the exit where they burst free from their cage contained in the body that was bought and brought with the air the deepness of red that would fade to brown and soak the air with its presence. and as he laid. it is okay to began a thought out of nowhere but to end it in the same. he would step off the train at the same time and the same place as the instant he became a passenger. and he always shot the messenger. to kill. denial was not something that could be put on tried and judged like the show with jurors in tow paveing the law for future infractions. but only pieces. and he pictured him in his place. and he became the place he wanted most feared interests compounded daily into a single number that would calculate a single act. the most eager door would never be opened but pinned down with a direction it bisects insurrection leading down a path too dangerous for most to follow. and they all fall down. hounded like hounds. with the exclamation mark implied. what a difference a single vowel makes. inhalation caused the condensation to dissipate until he again voided the void in his chest blessed by oxygen stressed by excitement. deeper deeper he felt. wrapped in a quilt. the innumerable muscles required to blink drew upon the syrup spilled to take in that element consumed in the void. and he wondered at the finality of it all. and the continuation after his departure. a friend in the room would ease the pain for the instant and increase the crease on the plane of the continuation after his departure. but it was never flat before hand. and out of the valleys created by the folding mountains grew in inverse and inverted themselves when the plane nosedived the perpendicular. and off their peaks walked feet. falling in the direction that gravity intended to resist. and the kiss on the forehead became a hug on the neck but heaping on the acceleration the condensation condensed its concentration. pooling no longer on the plane of glass that looked like glass it now descended skin that tastes like skin and marinated in its own wastes the salt crept back into darkness. the thrust comes now. a desperate attempt at tying together all of it was in the timing. with a hand of a sailor. knots were not desired but slipped and slided into the insight offered by a falling man. embracing until the crack. of dawn. and a single dot made the consideration fall upon the break. but drained now. and pale. cut loose until the thud. a second fall a second wind. but he could not see either. only felt the moisture. and the warmth of the earth.

FEBRUARY FOURTEEN TWO-THOUSAND-TEN