Collected Silhouettes

Collected Silhouettes

By Shaire Blythe
March 1, 2017

I shiver from the lies that trip from his lips, spilling like honey from his tongue, and I'm left alone in this narrow cavern of madness. Silhouettes prey among the walls, my bones are warped, insecure--and all I require are his arms to brace me for the splatter of my body against jagged boulders that await below--but how insane of me, because I am forced into my own straightjacket, rocking back and forth, knowing that another will soon accompany me while he saunters away, daintily whistling to the tune of his own voices that prey upon the girls who drop change to the homeless men under the awning of corner stores and gently cradle his head into her chest as he braces to flip a chair, irrationally cursing at a criticism he cannot bear to hear--but he only takes his collection to the shadows after the phone calls made just to hear their voice and sweet kisses on the forehead to feign rationality that was never there.

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