Belongings

Mayday cries don’t get far in the pouring rain.

What would she say if I were to kill him tonight? He is upstairs and all it takes is just a steak knife from the kitchen. The faded yellow carpet will silence my approaching footsteps, but, will she understand why? Perhaps he knew, and they were just stringing me all along. Heavy raindrops pound on the windows; it will be hard to be heard. Do his snores stir up the same thunderstorm as the one outside? It might make the job more difficult but there’s no point backing out now. Where’re the knives? The kitchen counter is wiped down. They must be in one of the drawers. Was someone coming down the stairs? Easy now, don’t make any noise. There we go! This one? Whatever, stainless steel will do, the thinness of the blade is promising, empowering. There is nothing he can do now, but lay there, shamelessly dreaming about his privileged tomorrow. It goes beyond coincidence and connections – how in the world can this fuck get so close in the first place? Exemplifying another persona of dementia in this particular dimension of irrationality….

Will continue the short story sometime soon.

How do you isolate the good from the bad? Some call it selective memory, but I’m sure L.E.G.A.C.Y. would agree with me in that it should be renamed broken heart disease. Insomnia is never a solution but an inevitable and unrelenting byproduct. It takes more than just pure strength to wake from this fiendish nightmare. Appreciate friends and family – “one for the honeys who roll blunts up but don’t smoke, two for the few who see potential in you when you broke…” -Nas. The contemplations of culpability, flooded by perpetual flashbacks, eventually yield muddy and unbearable streams of consciousness. Staring at the ceiling, the whiteness paints a more explicit ignorance. “I still feel possessed as a gun charge, I come as correct as a porn star” -Lupe. Photo frames and letters crowd the peripheral, an extension of empathy. Packing the room ain’t so easy...

Bass so deep it resonates with the frequency of heartache.

God bless.