Gold River

The things that happen.

I zipped the top of my head off

like a box of sardines.

A small man jumped out

that man was me.

The blank page was like a sheet of ice

I skated around

swooping

jumping

spinning

free

My feet, it was amazing,

I couldn’t control my feet.

They were possessed.

Something had taken control of my feet.

It wasn’t me.

The Big Me

top off my head

I just watched it all

And then looked at my hand

which was gripping a clock

gripping so hard that the tips of my fingers

broke the face

jammed the arms

so they stopped.

The sharp arms of the clock

cut into me

and the blood turned black

when it hit the sheet.

Then Little Me

I got the blood on my feet

And danced around

in full out of control

I realized

the marks I was leaving were letters

then words

then lines of this prose

the source of which I did not know.

Little Me tired

and the blood ran dry

so I jumped in my head and

zipped it back closed.

My grip on the clock loosened

a bit

And the hands started moving.

The face healed itself.

I licked my lips and hung it back on the wall

where it watched me

eat a Larabar.

Author: jamesflawith

I am attempting to raise 3 young boys with my wife while running 2 totally different companies. One way I try to stay sane is by writing. Notice the word "try" in there.