I swagger through the door with my status running in front
clearing the area
being my backup.
and it takes a while for the steam of dreams laid on too warm heaters to clear
and for me to realise that maybe darts can't get to this case.

A side note: I love my uniform. it's shiny and creased in all the right places
as straight and clean as a pice of A4, and it says to you,
"Watch out, for I am here, and I am holding onto the authority in my pocket."

But moving on, I move on.
he is stationary, all various shades of gray and disdain-
i am looking at a desaturated photo through a cheap camera.
Juxtaposed for mere mockery is the television,
leaning, hunched against the wall
its bright plastic figures smirking at me
whilst embracing his indiginty.
Funny, how one person can pull two faces.

This is not clear cut,
I can not tell him that these are rules and these are the slim and slender ways by which you could live.
I'd be a hypocrite. and in spite of the fact its fun to say, no one likes this.

So he sits there, yeah? He sits there, and I stand there watching this happen
until he turns that great, inflated face to me
and he looks into my eye with his
and he starts to hiss
and squeak and pop
like words have not dripped off his tongue in so long that its all restarting.
And words, like smoke, start to curl out of his gray, hairy nostrils
and they jeer at me,
asking why i leave my own morals to go in search of every one elses
and i have no answer.
i have no answer, just a uniform, thats shiny and creased in the right places.
He mocks my uniform
i mock his television
he stands up.

"I'll tell you a story" he says "I'll tell you why I live in a world that could be crushed without a glance. Have you ever stared at a word so long that you don't know why it means what it means?"
I nod slowly, looking at the ground like a disgruntled child.
"do you know that the same happens with life? I have been through years skipping, and crawling and laughing and talking and crying and wondering what it takes to die before it just all runs away
like a joke you never understood.
i have seen what is to see and i have not seen what i do not wish to see and i hope and i pray for difference, recognizable or not because
we all just want to see change.
We all just awant that range of possibilites and impossibilites
but i'm a coward.
i cant move on without gratified approval
(at least, thats what i say).
i need a vortex, dollface.
I need transportation to somewhere
where i sure as hell know what'll happen
but.. I can feign surprise, cant i?
Give me torment, baby.
Give me justification.
Goddamn it all
and give me a life!"

With that he swoops back to his home
gracefully, clumsily.
I stand, like a vertical villain
staring at horizontal heroes
realising his misdemeanors.
and walk out.

this is the kind of life that I don't want to know about.
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust.
But I'm scared i'll get scared and i swear i'll try to nail you back up.

Female SouperHero
This felt far too ramble-y for my likes, or maybe I'm just tired. But behind the annoying narration was a brilliant message.