The Unhappy Woman

Her eyes focused on a hair as it floated before the stagnant air beneath her nose. She didn't so much as sigh, in case the hair would begin to billow and plummet to the carpeted floor like a rogue atom bomb, disappearing from her sight. Her hand hunted for it gently, caressing the air in an effort to leave the hair undisturbed in it's invisible floating sanctuary. Landing blissfully on her finger and caving into the fleshy pillar, she squealed. It was soft and airy, like an angel's hair but unclean; this hair belonged to a breathing animal of completely mammalian nature, completely feline in nature. Griswold stood at the stairs peeping like a an owl from a dark corner, wondering what the fuss was about.
Nadine looked Griswold in the eyes as she placed her hand into a plastic bag, letting the hair roll gently from her finger and into some old bean curd she had just thrown away. It no longer looked like angel's hair and became something vomitous, unclean as it truly was; the way it was meant to be seen.
"That will be enough of that, Griswold," she spoke to the cat, now cleaning it's paws. She heard the cat's saliva flicking between its stretched toes. The bristles of its tongue penetrating and working diligently. She removed herself from the room, envisioning behind her eyes a hawk, swooping through the living room and snatching the creature away from her sight.

The Institution

the dust settles beneath the flames
billowing from the clutter
of the iron structures.

an industrial cage
the bars penetrating the sky
as the coals scream
dying, the history agonizes
and hisses into submission.

the smoke cluttering my lungs
as I stand there
watching it burn,
its violent end
reflecting in my eyes.

The Hunger

I do not wear the ugliness on my face.
The creature I am beneath,
the separate entity that knows me.
It grows inside the womb of my heart
unresting, feeding
replenishing its lust for blood
through my veins.
Curling its fingers around the bars of my ribs
pounding against the walls louder than my pulse,
jagged teeth grinding through the muscle
invisibly tearing me from the inside out.
Feed it, it's always hungry
before it consumes me.

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