Cato

 

You are being catograzedgorized at this moment

You See, you raised a flag, a standard of belief, an umbrella of belonging. 

Red

Yellow

Lime

Blue

Purple

With pride you stand.

You stand with men that rape babies. 

There is no middle ground.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

Her early spring maple leaf green shirt had a glow about it in the sun light, so did her eyes, the colour of a shelled pistachio, every angle different, green, brown, some places grey, with a dash of red in the center when the shine hit just right. 

She strode amongst rows of beings on chaise lounges with vials and tubes going into veins. Their mouths moved and sounds of repetitive replacement words were uttered. She looked at each of them and she dove into their beings. She could see all they were, shells with no souls of any degree, animals in actuality.

Death meandered down the rows, her black and white oxfords tied tightly to her feet. Each of the beings she passed she saw groupings of data, pretend memories and made up stories, such vile creatures refused to see the truth they were so deep in the lie. 

The old witch crow did crouch near one and whispered in to ear, 

those screaming souls of those below

not to hell did they go

when you sleep

they wake and rise

their eyes stare back

and terrorize

trapped until the time

of nothing is upon thee

She tilted her head to the left so slightly as she tried to find something worth keeping. 

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

She turned her back to the rows and columns 

She always knows her Father sorts it out.