Apologies

Writing apologies,

plotting demises,

missing desires.

Wanting approval.

Anarchy

                            1        Black                Police

                            1        flags,    Witho   state v   y cond

                            1        liber-    ut free   iolenc   emn us

                            1        ateus.   dom li   e. The   all. No

                            1                    fe dies                power.

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

                            1

Deny

R

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howtruelifelives.

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The Ex

I heard

a new flat

and engaged.

That was quick.

                          

Decor

The hall
paint is fading,
chipped and scratched.
Perhaps
it should be fixed?
Would I feel better, if
the paint is not fading,
chipped and scratched?

Act VI

The starving are neglected.
We have no sincerity.
Just keep the TV on.
Ethics is a dirty word,
it makes no money.
The jar was burning him now. He had to make the drums, they seemed to be growing fainter now. The bombing was lighting the sky up. The air was getting heavier. The world was being eaten alive. The humanity was lost. He knew he could no longer hold the jar, he kept on. She rose in front of him. This was another trial. He knew he could no longer escape. She lay him down.
Letting you down,
is the best I could do.
We should never leave
but we did.
Death was stalking.
Life was evading.
It would all end.
The explosions were coming.
No one will ever move.
The fights can't go on.
He was resisting. Trying to fight her off. She clawed at his face, with long feline claws. Biting and chewing his neck. He picked the jar up, smashed it off her head. Too late he realised what he had done. There was an explosion in the sky. The word exploded across his mind. He stood up and shouted. The world stopped, the word was free. The fighting came back fiercer than ever. The world
died.
Good intentions
are not enough.

Act V

We travelled bringing death.
We thought it was salvation.
Saving your soul,
by destroying your life.
The door shut. He was in a room, nothing but a fluorescent glare. His head crumbling, a thousand thoughts dying. ' We know you have it, give us it'. Who was making the demand, it was printed on his brain, nothing else around him. He struggled to his feet. She was there, coming out of a desk. He watched her, she came over. 'I need it'. 'Not here... '. 'Where them?' 'Follow'. He opened the door, stepped into the marsh.
The commodities
are what we all need.
Control the workers.
Life is yours for the taking.
Consideration is always missing.
She turned him around, pulled his zip down. 'I need it now'. She pushed him into the mud, the smell of death washed over him. Standing over him she lowered herself. Squealing, her body contorted. Changing shape, containing all his past memories. She was raping his thoughts. Too late he realised. He ejaculated. It was gone, the word had gone. Standing up she exploded, turning into shards of iridescent jade. He picked up the pieces, cleaning the dirt off them. Placing them in his tub.
You are free.
You can do anything.
Lies perpetrated at school.
No one is ever free.
Life is over at the start.
He picked up the tub, it was vibrating and glowing. The word was trying to escape. Escape and reveal the truth. Walking gingerly he headed back to town. The marsh turned into cobbled streets. The street lights no longer working, he could hear the sounds of life coming to an end all around him. He walked into a small dark store. Showing the shopkeeper the tub, he was guided into a back room. Opening the tub, the beetles had eaten the jade. The shopkeeper picked them up with forceps and dropped them into a jar filled with formaldehyde. They squealed and imploded. The jar was foaming, putting a lid on it he walked out the door. The bombs were exploding in the distance, the night sky tinged with regret.
Existence
the struggle of life.
Always battling,
never winning.
Society is addicted.
Can't live without it.
The regret and sorrow weighing him down, he trudged on. The jar was getting warmer. The suffering was making it heavier. Society was struggling to find the answer, if they stopped the struggles and wars they would see the word. He could see their shapes moving through the trees. The mist lying on the ground now as if it was hiding. The sulphates in the air were burning his nose. The jar was moving so hard now he could hardly hold it.
The politicians, of the world
united by greed.
We need - a compromise.