plump, puffy toddler fingers squishing small animals flat. inherent cruelty runs amok in cold blood, the struggle in thin necks when strangulation is far too enticing. they say children are lovely, or evil, and i was both, satan's little toe stubbed on nondescript pieces of furniture; here, carve your initials into the refrigerator's door; here, drop a glass bottle on a passer-by's glistening skull; here, stuff the stomach until gluttony smiles between folds of exposed skin. the world is a claw machine and i am stuck between metal fangs, one brown animal starving for touch, taste. there is crushed toffee in my pocket and i eat the wrapping paper instead.
i was too colossal for this world. i was the stuffed toy smiling, mute on your mantelpiece.
so much numbness breaks in waves; old bones creaking under the weight of hollow tongues. today speaks to me of banal mediocrity, three dirhams strangled between hot fingers, the strange way vending machines stand tall and imposing. my forehead touches the cool glass. i think too little of this empty joy, the jangling of a beloved eatable on its way out of plastic prison. i slip between those cracks, vending machine daydreams, silver shells pressed into dented slits and the apathetic way black wires spiral endlessly. the coffee can falls.
i was away like a nightmare. did you feel the sunlight too?