its one thing when he talked to the dead

another when the dead started talking back

                                               brutally

they didnt have to hold their tongues

spare feelings

he was happy they had learned

those who were harshest he assumed eventually would even out a child with a new toy he was delighted to listen to their tirades

             he provoked them that shit was something they should never have tolerated when they were alive
and while they were alive he told them

                                         You didnt have to put up with crap

somehow they thought they did

he did recognise the somehow

they were women

anif a woman speaks her mind as men do shes a bitch

he implored them to be bitches Theyre pricks Fly your freak flagFuck em

angst

      their angst was palpable coloured the night air flashed like lightning bugs

they didnt speak to him in the daytime maybe they did but he couldnt hear them his mind was awhirl in the sunshine and he couldnt even get time with himself if he wanted too 

                                                        Selfish prick  there was always several in the committee who chastised himcalled him out  theyre right unfortunately their attempts to disrupt himdisrupture him were to no avail  their words white noise like water over a rocky fall

when he finally relaxed and got down to the bottom to the falls pool  there the noise was less harsh words formed voices could speak and he could hear them

he hadnt always heard

recent wounds cut deep

they wouldnt heal for awhile  not a long while and in the meanwhile  the gaping wounds must have served as mouths

he had herbal tea at night before bed

going into the bedroom he called to his cats Im going to bed kids Just so you know where I am

a voice or voices were already tucked in and comfortable

O the things they told him

he was wary initially 

he floated balloons

acted fuckin naïve he didnt know he had that in him

the things they saidO the things they said were true he hadnt doubted but no one could tell him the sky was blue and he believed them unless he went outside to see for himself what colour blue

he called it a character trait

others called it a defect

Then Im just fine being defective

Hmm if he was defective why were they talking to him

Because you’re thorough.

Thoroughly defective

HA!

     nice  they still had a sense of humour

sometimes he fell asleep as they told their stories

which was really nice

he read stories or told stories to ease family and friends into sleep

itd been a long time since someone told him a bedtime story

2039,  Thursday,  23  4. 20

1259,  Saturday,  25  4. 20

Fiona Apple  Heavy Balloons   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8whTAkkBv6U