we lock up and hold our breath

i wish i had a good song to sing. today i was a housewife. spent the whole afternoon cleaning house and tapping my finger. a slow day that went by too fast. i picked up some cat shit and thought about what the future holds.

on a smoking break, i heard a gunshot in close proximity. at nighttime. all safe doors were shut and locked, drapes drawn and lights dimmed. I figured if this were some other place or history, if everyone in the neighborhood heard such a commotion as gunfire, they might rush out of their homes to see if everything were okay.

we'd all run out late at night to find a dead friend. everyone would be carrying torches and clubs to dispatch some intruder/assailant. we'd mourn our dead by moonlight and see all the familiar faces in it together, there, in the streets. comradarie, i suppose.

we watch television and talk about family members' future endeavors. we eat many kinds of meat before a football game and dream about sex. i'm in the corner of the room sulking over christmas and an old relative is talking about a cousin that will soon become a police officer. all she really hoped was that he didn't get a job working in the core. because that would be bad.

yeah, probably.

nobody wants to help anybody out. i'm slightly paranoid (to a degree i'll admit) and get nervous when i'm caught off guard. if you telling me you're dying and hungry, i'll probably believe you, all the while i'm doing whatever i can to escape our awkward conversation. we make wonderful, hasty decisions when forced to.

or else we lock up and hold our breath.