this morning

To the store to sit. She parked at Hair Masters "Congratulations" she should tell them she should have worn the slippers the monkey faced slippers. then people will think ill of me and i can devour their 2D wrath and fill the other parts of me. inserts the day old movie smells like metal tastes. leather waste. she finds a home on a cooler. YOU can pull or sit upon. she finds refuge amongst her castle of beer. the man tears it down. like he does sometimes. and puts its broken pieces on a green trolley. cart of death. and ecstasy. the bleeding small one grabs 12 bags as she fondles the 2lb for $1 oranges. glances at the cookies. ehhh.. surrounded by remains of what once was and 2 for $5 fiber bars . that one is warm. the coffee coats her insides like a small parade of sticky vanilla ones sweating and slipping. it was then i remembered the paint chips. WATER BALLOON fuck. gangsters swagger. shes making human right now. my insides are a world outside a whirled. i wonder more. they are all famous and do not know. as the native chants in her head become to loud to ignore she danced and flapped and gave into her small voice that never speaks but thinks obscenities like throwing cups at doors. the small one will be here soon. the muffins look delicious.