Life spawns.

[cold]

Walking home from a late night show, worried about getting to bed as soon as possible while being loaded from whiskey and full from a gallon of soda and an extra large popcorn. I've got to take a leak. There's no one in the alley, so I take a stroll down. I stop right by the dumpster. Looking left, to right and all seems clear. I pull myself out, and began to try and relax. It's taking a sec because two guys just walked by and noticed me standing there, so I try to make like I'm actually doing something besides taking a piss. I look down by the dumpster.

There's a stencil of a man on the side. Weathered and beaten down from either liquids being poured onto it or bottles being thrown at it. So I close my eyes and begin to think. And for a small moment I thought I heard something. But first there's a stabbing pain in my back..

If I could walk the bridge with troubled water beneath, would I cut the ropes and try to swim? The water has me. To wash me away. Let the rocks mold my body into torn, soaked flesh. Carry me out to the inner-most depths of the sea. Fill it in with dirt so I can sink even further.

Hands frozen, until one of them slowly reaches for my back pocket.

My head bobs up for a moment, and the cold misty air rushes in for that split second. And for that second, I’m surviving. But I want to see how deep the river goes. I want it to challeng me. I want to be one with the current. I want to.. this fucking pain in my back persists. Poking and prodding..

One hand still holding myself, almost drained of toxins.

Let the water bring the last of my breath to the top. Disintegrate my skin, and be washed ashore in a secluded cove. The vacant sockets can then witness the end of the planet. Cracked skull. A rib missing from all the damn poking and prodding-reminding me of the pain. All the other skeletons can witness with me, the end; from the shore with the water at our feet. The water can't hold me down, and these ropes aren’t meant to be cut. The end of this bridge will be met, and I will smell those flowers on the other side..

My eyes open. The dumpster, now turned sideways. Ground next to my ear. The sweet pain sends my mouth smiling, while grunting trying to get up. 'At least he left my wallet' I thought as I scratch the back of my head returning with dried blood on my fingernails, while caressing the backside of my left rib cage. 'I think I broke a rib.' I say to myself just before I take a step to leave. And just before I do, I realize my penis is still hanging out. Life has it’s little moments I guess, now all zipped up with a new zest for life. I lag around the corner of the alley and notice in the distance a small strip of fresh grass, glistening from last night's storm, showing off it's beauty in the morning sun.

Hey, it may not be flowers, but it's a start.

[Kreep]

I'll just say nice, keep it short and sweet. Ok... and a well done.

[aadil]

He should write a book too.