There are angry faces beneath the window as the day wanes toward darkness. Shadow faces with loud voices. There are boots on the gravel and hot breath fogging the glass.
“Any last words before we plunge the hole with you?”
“I told the truth, I swear.”
How long for crushing shame? How long for speeches? If I’ve erred, my errors are mine. If I’ve stumbled, my feet are my own. If I misspoke, they are my words and I will eat them. Every one.
“Forget it, asshole. We see you. You have the contradiction contained within your skin. Strange flesh…”
Can you feel it? The buzzing, cockroach sensation behind your eyes… Clicking, scuttling, hissing. That anxious warning. An inflamed anger...You’ll never know what. You’ll just have to accept the encroaching darkness. It comes from inside.
Do not open private
doors.
Stay out of sight.
Come out of this
selfish catatonia.
We won’t be here
long.
Unheard protests against an impassable wall. Assailed from all directions. Rotted flesh beneath the skin. Bones and broken teeth. Uprooted and vanished. Everyone’s gone away.
Record my words with iron. I have a living defender. After my awakening, set me close. And from my flesh, my skin I will see God.
Job 19


No comments:
Post a Comment