Been signed out for a long while since the dawn of the shroud mincing words with the weakened fortresses of sick and contagious anxiety chests at attention most of the time overtime so over it not over it into the night that deals its horrors in your dreams in your cranial furniture the cesspool of flawed blendings trying to spit out words spitting or drooling with punctuation or pauses or and or can he or she or it or and or this that common distinctions ending where I fall asleep almost and then startle with another segment of the worm that loops in my markings and grades never entered for anyone to remember or even or odd or and or terse knocking at the wall behind the picture of the child wearing a sheet over his whole dirty body no one to remind him to shower they just never leave their rooms they just never leave their rooms.

"There, I said it," she said.
"There, you said it," he said.
"It always sounds better when you say it," she said.
"But, I didn't say it. I just said that you said it," he said.
"You did," she said.
"About what you said," he said.
"You did make it sound better," she said.
"Who told you that?" he asked.
"I told me that," she said.
"No, I mean where did you get that idea from?" he asked.
"From myself," she said.
"Who else in your life said that other people take what you say and say it better?" he asked.
"The others, I guess," she said.
"What others?" he asked.
"Everyone else takes what I say and makes it sound better," she said.
"They don't exactly assume your raw materials or shitting pot you hang your lips over. It tends to be closer to a starting from scratch process," he said.
"Like that for example," she said.
"I am not they," he said. "Or perhaps I am no matter how much I'd like to refuse membership with everyone else," he added.
"No matter?" she asked.
"Like that for example?" he asked.

Shuddering vision
Diffused with closed eyes
Vulgar kissing sounds
Ushered in by your tired asshole
The distance is populated 
by the mean
Reading blank pages
curving into the everyday death
reawakened into coercion

- Max Stoltenberg