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Two kids share a conjoined room; only a wall separates them. On one side of the wall, she sits at a desk and scribbles scenarios. She is certain the answer lies in her magical powers. On the other side, the boy sits at an identical desk and sticks his pen in-between his teeth. He can’t figure out what to say. He hasn’t even heard her voice yet, but he is certain she exists. How can fate have it other way? His destiny was created by her hands and squeezed into a little glass bottle. Splash! She wished as hard as she could and ran away. He ran toward me. He never had any direction but upstream. He knew, if he timed it perfectly, he could just dangle off a tree and reach down his porcelain hand. He had always felt this story coming toward him. But I got overheated by my bratty nature and started banging on the wall. The little girl heard a rhythm. She immediately threw down the pen and started dancing. The boy closed his eyes and began singing. The thoughts flowed until there was nothing left but her movements. The wall disintegrated. From behind his eyelids, he sees his love performing for him. He sees the story in the river. It snags on a boulder. It struggles to stay above the raging waters. She sees. The past has ceased to exist. She whips her hips to the rhythm of the water and clicks her chin in seduction. She fools everyone with a single grin. She is not happy. She is fucking determined to break free! The stone crumbles before her and the bottle bounces toward me. I reach out my hands. She feels so close; I could swear it was my own story she’s written. I would give my life to touch her skin. There is nothing between us. I open my eyes. It is dark. Everyone is dead. The screens have consumed them all. An addiction that not even my presence can shake. I sit before them and ask of their time. But they have no time to give in this deathly state. They are my family. They are my lovers. They are my sisters and brothers. They are the entire human race. And they have sacrificed everything for the next great ending. It’s nothing spectacular. Another war. Another disease. Another cure. Another savior to bow before; the human spectacle remains obedient, meek, and easily hoarded into the most cost effective confinement. Right off a fucking cliff even, they wont see it coming, won’t feel a thing. I ask them into my silence and watch them shake. They want to talk of nothing; what they’ve watched, what they will watch, what they’re watching now. None of what is being seen is I. Nothing but a flashing screen. The presence of physical form completely abandoned. The soul fled the seen. Remembered only in the reflection of my steel blues. I am ruthless now. I see pain everywhere. I don’t care how much it hurts! I don’t care how much they squirm. I don’t care if all they see is death in me. I have come to set them free in memory. They are reminded, just before they murder me. I show them a dead queen and a sickly king. I leave you to play the rest of the game on your own. Its just a suggestion, but I highly recommend that you find a way to see a little pond running his ass off until he makes it to the other side. You are nothing but skin and bones without your soul. Resurrect your queen! I count the squares a thousand times. I fall asleep. I dream of a Virgo, she’s on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. She leans in to kiss me. I climb on top. The place catches fire. I wake. I scream. I hate being alone in a room full of human beings. I want silence. I want dancing! I want someone left alive! Berlin! Is it you? My love, I need you now! Come to me! A Capricorn cries on a cold floor. I try to knock on her door. But I’ve forgotten where I am. I can’t reach walls that don’t exist. I ask her find me. I find myself on my knees. I’ve moved the desk. I have a pen in my mouth and papers scattered all over the floor. It’s very cold in this room. The puppy is whining. I start a fire. I remember the ocean. I remember her dancing. I remember my voice. I write. I close my eyes. The wall crumbles. I wipe the soot off my paper and demand to see the rest go up in flames. I sit with my eyes closed almost every waking moment. No matter whom I’m around. No matter what’s being spoken. I remain in that desk with a pen between my lips. I chase it from side to side with my teeth to distract your soul from vision. She already knows me. She hasn’t spoken a word, will never need to again. She already remembers everything. You trace your skin with the same pen. I can’t look away. When I blink, it’s backwards. I need nothing but what is already within, a little bratty puppy named Jade, and a fated love to find me where I am. I need the moment. I need to whisper your name from time to time. I need to have faith in obsession and insanity. I need to believe in only fantasy. I need to scream! So the whole fucking world knows just how disrespectful I am. I hate your fucking diction! You manipulated each other into performing like maggots in a trashcan. Until death do we realize the magnitude of what we’ve done to our lovers? Until then I will watch you stare straight through one other and never see the moment again. But I will not die by your filthy hands! I have returned for your truth, babygirl. No matter how disgusting it is. “Truth is, I don’t trust you. But that doesn’t change the love that you possess. I come toward you with my heart wide open. I come to you seeking justice. I come to you as a child. I come to you in anger and in pain and at peace. I come to you freed. I have let you go. What I need, is for you to release me. You have been holding on for dear life. I expected I could let you have this grip on me for eternity. But it is time for me to embrace a new love. I cannot carry your pain anymore. I cannot be the cause of your crippling fear. It is time, my love; please let go of me.” She turns around in her chair. She has noticed me watching, the pen; her golden skin, she’s glowing. “Hi.” I cannot stop crying. “Hush boy. I’m trying to concentrate. I am close. If you opened your mouth, you could taste my arrival, something besides ink for a change. I know that you where sent to love. I have ingested every bit off you and vomited a sickly thing. I have known the healing energy that burns through your veins. I have written of how they paint your wrists. I have used your body to remember. I have used your tongue to write a story. I will release you on one condition only. That you bow before me and promise to return.” I promise nothing. “My love will always be in your reach. Just as yours was for me. Remember, baby. I beg you. Remember everything. Speak your truth. This and this alone will free me. Only dancing will heal you now.” I grab the bottle and bite off the cork. I stick one finger in and pull out her words. It reads. “I’m coming home. You had better be waiting for me.”