not in kansas anymore

they say she murdered men made of straw.

her words picked slowly at the buttons of his ragged shirt and her hands tore at his packing, in search.
the workers stopped their machines and gathered round. whispers and laughs of shameless interest polluted the currents that wind through the maze of golden fields.

a tarnish to be picked, processed, and forgotten.

he wept upon his post, crying out in silence for help from his fellow men; all too intoxicated with their midday treat. crows circled above the public execution, waiting for the moment their long time enemy was dead.
the workers hollered and whooped as the crazed lady thrashed at the broken man, encouraging her to set fire to his post.

decaying flesh lay scattered about as the search for his soul continued. to kill the will of the man made of straw was the distraught girl's wish. he deserves it, she said to herself.
over and over.

he deserves it
seasons come
crops are grown
money to be made, work to be played, and food to be ate.
many lover's toil and innocence may be saved today.

a matchbook escaped her pocket.
the breeze took care of the rest.

fortune teller.

I called my ex last night and had an awkward conversation. between my phone dying three times and losing service constantly, we managed to say alot of nothing. I felt like calling her would make me feel better-like it used to, but all she managed to do was make me feel worse. the last time my phone died, I decided that I wasn't going to call her back.

I grabbed my computer and made my way to the shower. I put on some porn and closed it after a few seconds. I don't see random people fucking. I just see her. I hate her. I felt the urge to text "I miss your pussy", but decided to say it to her on the phone. I wanted to know how she'd respond-I wanted it to be predictable. it wasn't. I felt angry at myself. she couldn't give me what I wanted-i should've called someone that would've.