Beneath The Noise On Channel Six
-J Dyson
brittle fingers breaking one by one beneath the strain of the relentless soap scum sun that burns and blisters the back of my neck until i've reached the empty end that is my day.
broken glass i've stepped on twice
swallowed whole
the good advice of the doctor is followed to the point of my demise.
a scheme! i scream i scream
this fateful day the sun went down and left no shadows to be found as finally the blanket of blackness devoured her whole.
no relief shall come from the falling sun
falling stars like raining hell
all that's left is one last breath, a fiery death and the static on channel six.
Beneath the white noise there is a message.
