intravenously polite, it was the walkie talkies that had knocked the pins down

as her shoes gripped the dirt floor, in a silhouette of dying.

(dancin on the corpses ashes)

"you drove yourself to the emergency room and didnt tell anyone?! jamie pounds!"

"you know, it was when i hit my head twice, that i became this way," tariq grins, catching my eye

(number one, garrett tumbles, in his attempt to pick me up and spin me around.

number two, jimmy salantri hurls a large, rubber ball from the street to my porch and it smacks straight into the side of my head, demolishing my vision, sending a buzzing noise exploding through my skull. the rest of the weekend, i can hardly interact. i'm removed. i can't connect. nothing makes sense. piecing language together is unbearably difficult. my words come out slurred. i'm so exhausted, i sleep 7 hours on the porch sofa saturday afternoon, covered in small elm flowers, waking to peel them gently from within my curls. my head, is aching.)

the curtain rises on me, clad in nothing but my black dress coat, standing alone, on my side porch at 2 in the morning, watching the foliage, coursing with cerulean.