No play
No
fast-forward
No
consumption of page after page
Character
built meals of meat and stock
None
There is the
first page
When it was
all to come
And the last
To be ripped
out and shredded
Eaten to
ensure no one ever discovers
The screaming
hilarity of your tale
Now is a mist
A smoke
Now is a
million miles an hour
And choking
on the fumes of it
Now is an
instant memory
In a head
already overfull
Now is fury
become silence
Because the
world cannot allow
Fury
And tomorrow
is expected
Predictable
and easy
Then the
thousand more tomorrows≠
Bring weight
upon their sullen mornings
So you tense
up and focus
Leaping with all
your might, to the end
Unchanged
from the start
Unevolved and
making all the same
Mistakes
Hiding your
journey from them all.