The Best Thing In Life Was Him

A Wisdom Per The Wasteful

The dream Aaron had about me at first seemed trite, so vert salud in the third ring of the circus. But at further poking and prodding at the seams, the dream, it seemed too big to be nothing. A smidgen, a dashful, a dollop of daisies, a brand new little green bag. I was the cause and the effect. A dream crashing into the edge of the world, twirling, whisking the light fantastic , a idealistic ringdom. It led to the world crashing into the sea. The rumbles of the beast on my breast, a yearning of the past, present and future things to come and a complete showdown. It is a symphony of destruction made into a dream that came crashing down into the screen image. A deaf ear was made to hear, a blind eye made to see, a unfeeling heart made to feel every thing that came to be. A defunct diode came to life, abrading the neurons to sink the playing field. He left me breathless, in awe of his torturous talent, a mega symphony, orchestrated to a tee. Suspended animation, slow moving atrocities abound out of space, molecium and molecule are one, two, three! Distant future leaping across the waves, undulating long after the peak, left to rest, it climbs the hill of the saturation's delving into the highest point of light and reason. The time before you can be the one declared to win everything and more is a small window of time. It may speed through the gates or it may slow down to a crawling tirade of meeker mouse meets the sweet slugging slowing slower slowest sighing to seek the dagger point. He had a weak side and that was no curse at all. It was wonderful to fill him full of the name of Jessica, JESSICA, jessica...

The spark was at the ready. Ignition at the count of three. Here comes the sleeting infrastructure of man, dripping acid and riling rays of sunshine, becoming too big too fast. It is all coming to a head, taxing the brake to complete the circuit, then breaking the skin below the first range of sleep, trying to spring into action. The warpigs, they have the power to decide who lives another day and who shall be the first in line to meet the d'yer mak'er in the back alleyway. Or in the dead of night, black upon us, prey to the mastermind of treason. Or at daybreak, the light peeking out from behind the sunflower, leeching chemical warfare and Algonquin steerage bins. The aplomb with panache came with the territory, a mild milestone turning to stonehenge as the clock ticks. Tick, tock, tick, tock. A sound of plumage rattling in the Starkey Barn, it was meant to seen, not heard. What a hot mess of white hot girls, all buring embers and the titillating of the plumage they wore in the day break.

I hate the way some girls think they are superior to everyone, everything. They don't know anything at all. Except how to be rude. He wasnt fighting with a trooper, god, get your facts straight, stoopid! Well, it is a fine time to leave me, Lucille. Read the fine print. Squint if ya gotta. Hey, I don't see anyone else writing a goddamn thing about him. Where were you all this time? In a closet? No, no, a little time will tell. Aaron was a fine man, a real good looker. What a smile, it shined as bright as the sun and it made my heart lurch, a clutched heart and unbound it. Aaron, you were always dreaming about things in the past, all that happened before came to be, didn't it? My heartache and my sorrow come from the depths of me, you are gone, my little one. Time left its clock behind, the hands bound, the hands tied. How many things can you touch with the hope you had before, before the ending of time? The end of you, the end of me. Oh, how can I be so blind as not to see the signs you left behind? You loved me, though, didn't you, I knew by the way your eyes sifted into sands of time when you looked at me, the hazy way they left me feeling, the way you had treated me that day. Why the long face, the silent treatment, you turned away from me and left me standing there, you know, I never felt so alone as I did that time with you. I don't understand, I don't pretend like i know, because I am often very wrong, sometimes I hurt my head by thinking too much. This is one of those times, where I don't know what happened, it happened too fast, I was too slow on the uptake. Is it too late to say how much I love the way you make or break the world, shadows passing by in the center of the universe. Oh, how could I not ever be enough? I am not pleasing enough, not your style or what. Fill me in, will ya. I would like an honest reason for one time in my life.