A.C ran through me keeping everything cool and preserved.

 I wondered how long until one of us succumbed to the numbing grasp things tend to have. We don’t hear the second tick away, clinging maliciously to the one still to come, somewhere between, rid of any sort of sameness, difference, values, righteousness, empathy for anything outside the room – generally indifferent, devoid of performance or tenderness and taken over by a crude sincerity made up of teeth and the strange king of lust you can only muster in the final moments before death. I was dying fast. A.C ran through me keeping everything cool and preserved. Preservation is key, preservation of the moment, of the world as you remember it, the church which must be kept clean and white, the grandfather embalmed for all eternity, streets, quarters, entire neighborhoods which mustn’t change; self preservation is most important. Don’t throw away any clothes, only change out the frames on your glasses for the most similar ones, keep your morals, your anecdotes, your face: only tighten it when needed, stay smooth and hyperalert, stay however you’re meant to stay, stay in control, just outside of time, keep to keeping, keep forever – nothing changes, nothing remains, all crap merely survives cool and preserved like myself, otherwise useless. The past has been wiped out by its own vestiges, embalmed at the edges for a mere semblance of life.