So I'm now among the nameless? I'm not to be considered? What catch nets are there for a guy when he flaps past the trapeze? Girls can curl up in a ball of selfish, hit you in the spots they know are tender and receive all the support they need. They believe your silence a cruelty, a sign of contentedness, a hummed satisfaction. They never consider it to be the only answer that can be given. In fact, to me, any other response seems cruel and basted in irony. Of course, it may just be further avoidance of consequence.
Silence. April is a cruel, cruel month. This post marks a pause, and I wouldn't have written at all save for the fear that the post below would ring on. In silence. Funny how newly sprung life can be so heedless to pain. Mean innocence, tactless and unassuming, a decorous segment of the abstract circle where the flowers need your bone marrow to spring from, root tendrils worm through the ossiferous cavities, sucking on salt water and clotted nutrient. Their coloured scent is your new breath, and your sweet panic'll only attract a stingier bee.