The Melting by Jeff X (recommended ebook reader .txt) 📕

The people dissapper like an icecube on a red summer day

The women, best friends, family

Say the word they werent hoping for

Sit when you were supposed to stand

Hug when you were supposed to kiss

Kiss when you were supposed to fuck;

like ravaging animals on the grass

The People dissappear like an icecube on a red summer day

To feel euphoria you must make someone feel grief

If only to be young again; I often

Find myself repeating, in the dark

With the door closed:

Dear child,

I say as a reminder to who I am now:

You too have cried

Your broken lego blocks,

replaced with 

Broken clocks

I AM GOING TO BE LATE FOR WORK 

THE FUCKING SNOOZE BUTTON

We yell in unison, at 8:47 am as we 

Dress in uniform for a job we hate 

Dear child,

I say as a reminder to who I am now:

You too have shed many tears

But broken model rockets

Replaced with

malfunctioning 

Electrical sockets

Anguish over a busted, unpitchable camp tent

Replaced by the pressure to pay off stiff rent

Where is the hand that holds you?

The People dissappear like an icecube on a red summer day

Dear child,

I say as a reminder to who I am now:

You too have sobbed for hours on end

Ballgames at recess 

Replaced with

The need to impress

Bus ride fart jokes

Replaced with

a broken heart that chokes

Who is there to console you?

As we grow older 

We don't know anymore then

Than we do now,

yet we pretend

We just learn different, meaningless tasks

We don't change, only circumstances 

And appearances, turn obligatory and false

Crying for our mother

Turns to crying for our lover

Bullied in the classroom, strike three!

You're out!

Bullied by your boss, strike three!

You're fired!

The lonliness spills through our soul like a leaking pipe

Never fixed, but

if we are lucky,

 there is a bucket catching the drips,

the salt water debris 

 A hug for me at best,

 Intimacy it seems for the rest.

Where have I gone wrong?

The People dissappear like an icecube on a red summer day

Oh, Bukowski:

"What matters most is how well you walk through the fire"

What if we are pushed in,

face first,

Surrounded by laughter

The dissappearance of the future

We once confidently saught after

Then what matters most, Buk?

The People dissappear like an icecube on a red summer day

And I am melting.

Publication Date: 07-07-2014

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
For those melting