Write whatever you want in the 'comments' section on this blog post. Play as many times as you like. #breaktheblog! You have two minutes (give or take a few seconds ... no pressure!). Have fun. The more people who play, the more fun it is. So, tell a friend. Then send 'em here to read your 'two' and encourage them to play.
Can’t you feel the sharp edges on your words? I know my ears are fucked, but they’re not that bad. They’re not whetstones. You think I’m putting a good edge on your syllables before they hit the old ear canals?
Don’t they taste bad, those words? They have to. I imagine they taste like battery acid. Probably burn like acid, too. But they’re effective. My brain feels lacerated, septic, and I don’t really care to keep talking about it anymore to be honest.
Show me a cool, dark cave, and I’ll go live there. You can visit every once in a while. Make sure I’m not wearing animal skins or making mannequins out of small, sharp bones. Those will cut you just as quick as words.
Lonely or not.
Maybe it’s a problem inside of me, but I think it would behoove both of us to look inside ourselves. Your shit is real important; I get that. My shit is my shit, so why should it concern you?
Let’s be sensible; it’s the reasonable thing to do.
So, on that note, I’m taking my leave. You can keep yapping away, shooting darts into the space I used to occupy. I’m going to be up high, past the stars, beyond the sooted sky.
Or I’ll find a place where people let their words be soft, round. Where people speak, but I don’t have to run from the sound. You got wares to sell, clearly. And your poker face works.
Just not on me. I’m gonna go make a shield out of my words, now. You laid down the gauntlet. But you don’t get to make all the rules.
#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...