Fall to Pieces

February 2, 2010
a boy-man lies
on his bed
white buds protruding from his ears
connecting to a silver box
with a black front
and a white screen
displaying a black woman
gun holster at her waist
on a red dot

sounds of a band currently on hiatus
vibrate against his eardrums
“I fall to pieces, I’m falling
Fell to pieces and I’m still falling
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces”

a drop of salt water
slides down his cheek
leaving its sorrowful tale.
many more soon follow.
no one, not even his parents
across the hall
in the house lit only
by streetlights outside,
the moon,
and his iPod

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