from the gates of your front house i could only see a small dim light illuminating a trail from the back to the front door. i grabbed the handle (loosely, but well enough) and crept the door open wide. your animals grew in a frenzy and ran out the door.. but from what i knew what (might) have been happening i had no interest in them -- it was you.

i walked through the kitchen and into the back where the singular bulb light was shining from silhouettes of your singular bathroom. (i hear vomiting) and as i pushed the door to the side, i see you on your knees, face in the opening of the toilet and your arms to your sides. you lifted your head up slowly (every bone within your spine slowly reaching back down under layers of skin) and tilted it to me. your hair was blonde but your lips (typically ruby red) were blue. your eyes were pale and from what i saw remaining -- you'd been throwing up blood.

you told me not to tell anyone. that this was nothing, you had slipped and you'd never fall again. you grabbed at my arms with your hands (the temperature of ice) and demanded a respectful truce. i stuttered with my words and could only emit three words. i stepped back and noticed the things surrounding you.. small pictures of women and men and bones and knives. you cut off their heads (stop staring) and replaced them with your own. (this was like a movie) as my steps progressed you started expelling blood through your mouth. you scratched and clawed your way towards me.. (drip, drop) ..i had to turn my face and head towards the door.

as i drove past your picket fence, i saw you in my rearview mirror standing in the yard, a mirror in one hand and a knife in the other.

"never say never."
xxx