You smile and we arise, we crash, and I die thousand deaths again and again.
Those missing fingers are not holding him back from pulling the trigger, nor has the demon on his chest stopped laughing.
He wrote a crime novel, but failed to notice, that she was acting it out diligently.
My wife keeps calling me every day, thought I don’t know how she managed to be buried with her phone.
I’ve been telling my ridiculously superstitious cleaning lady, that wearing garlic necklaces and crucifixes never stopped me from eating, when I was hungry.
The brightness of the exploding rescue shuttle outshines the red gleaming oxygen display on my arm, outshines the light of the dawning earth.