Bedbugs XXXVII

Bedbugs XXXVII


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for last week's Bedbugs.


As soon as she and one of us and the rest who get a chance to
do so, the 'victim act' starts up again and drains everyone around
them until the color is gone from their flesh. Knowing mechanical
emotion brought forth in spurts of implanted inspiration tries to
fool everyone tied down into thinking it's real. I don't look into my
past anymore. Too many reasons, clouds gathering upstairs and
eventually I'll have to move out. Weekends become the hiding time
and Mondays the day you spin fiction describing how your life
is the one you wanted to lead. Across hiding in the open field is
your conscience..waiting for you to stop wasting its time.
Underneath her eyes are intentions and revelations coming
out in each curve of a lip; but you can't even look at her so
you miss the point as does everyone else. Clouded heads turn
the words into something found at the bottom of a bucket.
Spill it all over a white room and call it 'art.' Some idiot somewhere
will pay you for it. I'm lucky enough to wake up again. But
give anything to turn it back seems to be the mantra, realizing
there's no way to earn a past change in one's life. March on
before the house burns down. Somewhere at the end of this
field's road is something better that's not molded from toxic
material, rounded up and they're filled with absolute joy.



Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:



-keep away from all of us
-the phone's ringing and interrupting me
-routine for numbing each layer
-wood decays faster with intention
-come and see what I have for you
-the mood lightens on the fifth
-legend in your own little house


-Adam Barnick