68. he tries to break away, but runs back home as soon as the storm is sailing the sky
he tries to break away, but runs back home as soon as the storm is sailing the sky, i watch from outside, look into the window of their messed-up lives, thanking god it's not me, his stifling safe choice, with mrs average deceived & the dribbling toddlers, i am running wild in the sky all over the countryside, that's what happens inside me, i doubt if i will want him there anyway, the best of both worlds is what he wants, he wants his clothes ironed, his dinner cooked & to participate in the grey life, for her to lie very still for the weekly fuck, faking orgasm within minutes, in the bed where they have grown to resent each other, i am meant to be secretive, dangerously sexy, full of promises, a whisper of warning into the ear of his life, a scratch at the glass of his safe safe house, the mistress will be pushed into compromise, into hiding & whispering, waiting & hoping, i don't believe in what they have, i hear it nagging out its domesticity from every house in every suburb, i hear its quiet hate & its insanity, the shotgun blast through the front pages of the sun-herald, & the fingerprint-size-faces of the children that used to be, he would have to be sure you would be like her, before he ever leaves her for you, do you really want to end up like that?, i laughed at her, to get my power back, i knew it was the wrong thing to do |
