VERBAL DIARRHOEA

of late. the jamming of doors to clear out an open highway bummed her. hard. it felt like a force. invisible in that she couldnt see it nor felt it coming. like a heavy sigh that lends a breath of fresh heir to immobility. with the corners of the elevator rounded in passed concrete lined with sandpaper at the bottom. to smoother and smother the landing of highs and lows. the buttons naturally reach out for a hand with adequately-sensored numerically forward and back fingers. tipping off the velvet more pricelessly than moonwalking the foxtrot. mailing sanity in black envelopes through a characteristic hostage situation. the alarm bell softly spots a hinge of creaking fear and cracking confidence. which she would like to think is realism envisioned in an extreme and unruly head of a pig. the only way she knows to be truly functional. albeit from scratch. in minute progressions. piece by piece. as the lubricating dependence immediately if not instantly wears off.

she moves in a way that they all cant keep up. too quick to upset. too slow to disappoint. no one knows if she’s up or down. in or out. still here or there. she takes herself out of her world to place it that high up. spins that beautiful bubble she wouldnt stop complaining about so it never stops short of that best. picture perfect. it will always remain.

the left. to be cruel and heartless. the right. to be tolerating and patient. at the mercy of doctor inadequacy. at the most consequential of time. in the weakest of being. she tries. and fails.

she can take the possibilities but not the things that could possibly take a turn. away. and she wont.

she signs out. shuts away. takes off.

current aural of a helium balloon - Hands by Jewel.