When I think of 200 words. I don't think about a number. I'm not watching the meter tick.
I think about what might want to come out - words stumbling to the ground, trip
Trip. Tear. Ripping open the shadow spilling out the warmth of the day.
Who's here? What are they saying?
Reading this is not something to take with you tonight. Please leave it here.
Don't store these thoughts in your own mind.
I'll hunt you down and rip them piece by piece and rub them on your eyebrows.
My hunting skills are impeccable.
I can find the # symbol without looking. The & is also right where I left it.
My future is in your hands. You're home having hands helped heal her heavenly hips.
Scyuze me fo a lidder 8in on your sweater. I din mean to spillasticate befowe noraftuh.
Jestin here. Upin here
Words come on in get masticated.
What's one of dem daze mah brutha. What's one of dem daze!
Back to you. You and yours. And hoping your words arrivalin, get settled in. Enjoy. Enjoy the peaces I'm offering. It won't be long. The hunt is on. Do not take these with you this naughty.