" A Simple life "

You lived in the same house all your life, although you just moved here, but in your new bedroom is that crack on the wall that you made when you were four.



You try to sleep, although the dog's barks keep waking you up. You don't have a dog, you didn't for a long time.



The thirst for blood and the needless violence will be passed down to our children as long as we have them, we lit fires bright enough to blind our sense of justice, we will never forget, we were born to fight.



The burger joint is always occupied by teenagers, and they never leave, the smell of burning flesh and rotting meat is fairly attractive.



Your grandfather was sent to collect blood and breath, he used gigantic beasts of war to bring a purpose and an iron sky, his rotting carcass never fully decomposes, the stench of blood and steam still lingers, you can feel something inside you.



You go out to get your mail, you wave at your neighbor, he does the same, with his thin, glass-like arms and eyes made out of rusty metal. You pick up the package, it is dripping and there is dark red splotches in the driveway.



You don't like it, but you have a gun in every room, for the presence that keeps begging you to stop. It's getting closer.



A mother pulls her child away from you and hisses, everyone knows everyone so they all know what you did, they know how you teeth were stained red, and how your eyes widened when you heard the police sirens.



The neighbors keep asking where their pets are. It's the coyotes, you lie through your teeth.



Your sense go into overdrive, it's hunting season, it's too late to hide, you will find them, and tou will put their heads next to the deer and coyotes heads. THEY CANNOT ESCAPE.



When you fall asleep in the trolley, you can hear a quiet whisper, an angry moan and a hiss, you understand it perfectly.



An old man keeps asking your friends to buy talismans and amulets, "Buy one!" he glares at you, "BUY ONE!" He screams, you keep walking.



The voice you hear when you sleep is like an old friend, giving you advice and to guide, to protect. They keep whispering promises about the comforts and joys of the world. Your voice cracks, "How much would that cost?" The old friend laughs, silky and wonderful, "Oh, just your soul."



The ground is sinking, it will stop when you return.



The canals are filled up with dead fish, the sacrifice is fine, but you need more.



The cement is cracking, the sea is returning, the fire will burn everything and cleanse it, all of us are returning.