WRITINGS

None of This

She cried out- Turd, i love you
He responded- Turn around,
move over to the side,
run that way






His Basement

He was the kinda guy that was nice,
asked everyone how they were doing,
talkative, my god talkative.

On a bright summer day, he walks through the door with melancholy
I watch him pound his feet as he walks across the floor. Mini
earthquakes.
Hey, what the fuck are you doing? i asked.
Not even a look look.

I bet he wishes someone would ask him how he was doing.

Once I left, he seemed much better.

He watches me leave.
He climbs the staircase quick while pulling on the railing, hard.
He knew the thing was loose
as he fell to the
bottom of his basement.