pigs rule the world

journals two
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the sun was stowed up on the cupboard's of the nightfall. sounds so sweet of birds in the haze, grass swishing, the white water creek that was turned to green after years of children throwing their trash into them. cap of mold formed onto the cold sedated rocks of grey. nothing but pure mornings and sounds. wonderful.
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it was a windy day of cold breathes on back. the fan whirling as we all sat open legged at the foot of the on stomachs and shoulders we laid on. we were a tangle. now we are brothers and sisters. friends of pain. trying to survive on noting but air. flowers bloomed near the edge of the small house ( it was more of a run down barn shed) with wood floors that creaked when stepped on. or dust caught up in the sands of time. Lilly pushed me off the bed told me i could not share the bed. we were to many. Zach kicked me in the gut. called me names i tried to laugh about this but it was useless inside it hurt.
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we had some bread and butter. thats it nothing else. we were down right poor. mother worked two non forgiving jobs while we laid in bed all day. i always wanted to be awake before the world i would sleep little just to live in the moment of every second of the world. i knew the lady who lived in the actual house she was nice i met her a couple summers ago she had skin so baby smooth i wanted to kiss it. her pale eyes in color. blind she was. taught me everything i know about worth living.
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i walked around alone for the woods were dark and smelled wonderful especially at night the fan blared loud. i tried to get lilly to come. she refused told me i was being quite silly to walk around barefooted at night. i walked alone. the hush sound of crickets, dead birds, the muffled rivers, the walking of horses, dogs barking created equal love in me. i never walked this much alone.
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i ran so fast out i had fallen from the rocks in front of me making me skin my toes how an animals fleshed at a butcher's home. it was good. good it was. tiny bumps of bugs against my dry skin felt wonderful. a bite of blood trickled own my already pale leg made it shine against my canvas of skin. cool as it felt it was not cold enough when smeared on my body to cool me. red. tainted rivers. now an euphoria of colors. a reverbetated voice from behind the trees. the blood being wiped through my veins. felt cooler now than before. i felt cold. not cold enough as the red ochre soil underneath the waters or the foot of my bed.
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maybe blood waters is better to be in than those small ones with nothing at all. where the fishes live happily. not caring much. i was bit red. walking home after wiping my flesh art canvas clean. now i wrap my warm body into the pure worn out white sheets of fresh breaths of wetness. yellow and red. pee slid down zachs leg and i felt it hit me my leg stinged from where i was now healing wound. lilly never moved. smells came. i liked it. i feel safe. from much of harms way. mother never came home after tonight.
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she hung her body high her head low. on our ceiling. of scattered chair oceans underneath her footing.