weaponise the timeline.

 

“Words! Mere words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?”

— Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

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connie lit the wrong end of the cigarette

blade took it away

said it was bad for her

connie had lost control

hastily broke the glass

it smashed into pieces on the ground

blade picked up the pieces

small cuts on his fingers

he put them back together

piece by piece with tape

connie took the glass

tears in her eyes

cupping it in her hands

her palms bleeding

as she walked away

water, she had to clean it

connie poured into the glass

but it could no longer be full

the glass could not be filled anymore

water seeping out through the cracks

like her tears flowing from her eyes

connie walked to the rubbish bin

her heart smashed

as how the glass had been

she let it go into the bin

connie no longer needed it

as she stared at

what remained of the glass

she reached into her pocket

and threw away

what was left of

the cigarette pack

blade gave to her

did it mean anything

or make anything

less broken?

written: 15 august 2025

————————

M.

i've been here in real life
dodging all these airstrikes
anxious, but it's alright
martyrdom weather.