a lack of color

in split second occurs an explosion of stars, hundreds of shining, porcelain heavenly bodies occupy the dark gray canvas of the kitchen floor knocking the walls, scratching the oven exterior, breaking the microwave glass, hitting the counter doors, penetrating the flesh.

yes, the tiny stars from the supernova explosion of his favorite coffee mug aim their way inside the universe of his physical being.

the minute porcelain stars penetrated the pores, ripping the skin with tiny scratches, tearing the muscles, the veins, the bones, and extracting fresh blood that just came from its journey from the heart.

the scarlet explosions from his legs eclipsed the slow motion dancing of white stars in the floor.

a few minutes of what seemed like light years in his universe, he remembers.

he remembers how to write. he remembers to feel. he remembers to laugh. he remembers to cry. he remembers happiness. he remembers pain. he remembers how to feel.

- -
it is that day when he wakes up drunk with the spirit of overconfidence and he thinks that his phone's security password was deeply embedded into his genes but in reality it is actually not- that’s why a total data wipe takes place.

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