JAGUAR
10.31.20
Dia De Los Muertos,
This house is haunted and now you know that first hand. Ghosts leave ugly messes here. The type that wake you up with ice-cubes in your belly. No amount of blankets can cover up that chill.
I’m sorry. Truly. I could ramble off excuses about miscalculations and bad timing, but we both know there was intention in flirting with madness. What surprised us all, I think, is when madness started flirting back.
Know what though? I don’t believe there’s a thing we’ve seen we have not first felt. You knew this the moment you could no longer discern adrenaline from oxytocin, fate thinks herself a comedian that way and we’ve both been had on this one. It’s a good thing we have a sense of humor.
So fuck the monsters under the bed, and fuck me too while you’re at it. Let the sounds of our laughter and moans be the sage that smokes out beasts from their hiding places. There’s no music dancing with the dead.