Looks Good on Paper - Help.com

Looks Good on Paper

White walls in white light. The smell of pine wafts though his nostrils for the last time. Shadows are uncomfortably close. Slowly, he raises his bones and shakes hands with death. The little clock turns it’s hand to noon and shuts down. Slides open. Tick tock. Pine? Spruce. Maybe. Gray walls in dim light. The heat from his footsteps are as hot as the sun in here. A hint of graphite still lingers from whoever received the last shipment of black. Gold. But pencils are depressingly far from the task at hand. He climbs over the bodies of the fallen to take his spot on the throne. Crayons. Lungs fill until they press on stomach. A moment of silence. Smear the dust. Winds storm through the nasal highway. He keeps his eyes on the floor, the gray floor, as he brings the cargo train from his designer overcoat. The label still ruffles in the back. Clap. Steel innovation thunders down the tracks, eager to deliver its payload. The station almost misses it. CLAP. He has no regrets. This is what the mirror told him, this is what the scars told him. CLAP. The hammer clicks back. Adrenaline fuel sends the pulse full circle every second. The voices are broadcasting clear now. Temples exploding his finger snaps like a firecracker. The spring squeals and the trigger balances in entropy for a single frame. Laughter.
Eyes open, finger frozen. Trigger teeters. And makes up its mind.

… whew

– Maybe my resolution should be to write a poem every day lol. Nah…

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