clean

and one by one they fall. so dry and brittle are the pieces, the mesa, the meta and pro. they've been dead for months. cramped in the corner of the cupboard. the thought of them makes me sick. as does the thought of you. only difference is, the mess their invasion in my life has made is easily cleaned by towels and bleaching sprays. i've yet to find a substance strong enough to wipe clean any residue you've left behind that doesn't do any permanent harm or leave those annoying streaks you can see clearly in the sun. it's just plain embarrassing when company comes over. but who am I kidding? there's no company. not with all these dead bees and dead feelings all over the place. no no no this wont do at all! so i weigh my options. i consider the realistic facts instead of the clouded misguided blame i tend to shower in. the outline and movement is just clear enough to make out but.. loch ness? big foot? my truth? it's a shame i study an analyze something that merits no credits. hmmmph. moving on..