The Walls Bleed with Termites (vol. 2)

(Side B)

Empty.
Lights beaming, flickering like an unstable man twitching with anxiety.
Crawling, racing, they compete with their lives on the line – who gets to the bag of rice first? Life’s complex question. Who survives?
Reliability, a rarity. Like a man with weathering emotions, reliability is a falsely sold dream;
Their noises, fast as a tornaduous wind whistling through the walls, with each flickering light. flick, flick, flick.

The walls bleed with termites.
The long and jaded corridors; rotten with life – suicidal, each plea filled with desperation.
As he lays, lying flat on the soulless floor – they crawl around him, slowly, without evident movements and suddenly like an ambushed and tireless troop – helpless and withered, with no hope in sight.

Yelping.
A piercing noise rises from his mouth like a newborn child seeking warmth and shelter.
Destitute of care, he plunges into the deep, endless ocean.
Swimming heartily in hope of rescue – a return to familiarity; a comfortable warm sea.

 

The Walls Bleed with Termites (vol. 1)

(Side A)

hollow and dark –
He finds himself twisted and lost.
Trapped by the poverty of desperation or the desperation of poverty,
Life. 
Never exactly what you plan it to be; simplest of plans become the most complicated.
Duped by opportunity, blinded by what proposed itself as ‘grace’ and ‘kindness’.
Tossed like a garden salad; overwhelmed by the falsity of man.
Suffering is a man not until he is clutched from comfortability, familiarity and flung into a sea of peculiarity.
Drowning: his life now nothing but a slideshow before his frail and callow eyes.