Helter skelter.

Come, bring me the hook. But first, prepare
me, ready the waters. I do not have gills or sallow
eyes so lead me in gently. Exploration no longer
displays when that line shakes and squeals
like a shark above water or a body underground
(that's still alive - shh dear don't assemble the
bones, they won't sing the same).

Why do you always shy away? You're not
really here to keep me, are you? Why must
you straighten my teeth and pull at my fins
to make me look my best? (we're supposed to
be disorderly, right?)

If you catch me in pale waters, or clean
my scales then consume nothing but gratification
that you have done your deed, your dirty work,
I'll leave nothing but my footprints, nothing but
a memory. But beware, memories can still
swim. They're just as dangerous, I

swear.

-
12/21/14

Freewrite. More abstract. Was listening to the Arctic Monkeys while writing this.