eireann

leave it to the sick sticks to give me a lesson in apathy.
welcome to the cool-down move around shake down absolutely nothing drowns me... quiet.
wait.
dream drink die laugh fall fall faster harder deeper into love and then...
hush hush my darling into the quietness of thinking and we will fall away from emotion and lapse into logic.
sick apathetic logic.
and words become words without feeling or emotion or any sort of reality linked to them.
if its wordplay you want, I am the queen master of words
and its just two cents three dollars thirty seven hundred hours of sick lick stick miss lie and die wordplay that can ease your mind.
subtly is not my strong point.
life or die or leave or try and make it a point to not play with my heart because this heart-break hostile death will not be for me.
I rule departures.
gone gone minature long dances in the moonlight as you cry cry for privacy and my laughter will break hearts that no longer belong to me.
thirty seven seconds until we're back at the minnow pond.
what answers can sickness provide to the well? what questions can the well request of those sickened by the actions of those proclaiming normality?
I have seventy five moments until obsession belies my cool exterior.
this razorblade dream will fade away with two asprin and a cold glass of water.