Untitled

Fall back, the armchair is warm, the stale imprint of a lonely heart remains. The television in the corner used to scream when we were kids but transmission has been dead for years, we can only make out "1's" and "0's".
We pass the time in dead tones, magazines and ear marked pages, repeat the prescription- "I want out", swallow another article of "happiness". I'll never believe the lies while I'm awake, there's too much time to shake.
A photo flipbook of after school fights and blackened eyes. War in enclosed spaces, this is where we learnt our manners.
Cross out the smiles and ten years down the line nothing will have changed. We're still best of friends, even though the bullets graze our arms and the tommy guns judge our actions. Take us to court on false charges, dire apprehension is painted on our faces; clowns hold rusty blades to our throats. We await our sentence, "Please pass our sentence swift..."
Tell the dictator, in our defense, "We're only human."
I don't think he'll listen to us, the chalk outline has already been drawn. The glass windows that divide our worlds has severed the chords, we communicate.
The bells chime, eleven to your seven. Throw our bodies into the river when you're done. We'll sink to the bottom like bricks fill our lungs with water. We'll give up struggling and drown the sun sparkles on the surface, it looks so pretty.
A pocket of air escapes my lips...as I sigh...goodbye dear friends.

Written by Vincent White