Madison Massarello

The feet caress the silenced floors.
The eyes delightfully shriek at the intoxicating images that carve divergent atoms.
The fingers dance across the tantalizing haze of consumerism.
We're in the supermarket.
...

Is my individuality showing?

I apologize for my skinned knees, for my lonely lungs and for the indecent walls that encase my skull.
...

Insignificant chatter looms over my decaying ear.
The tantalizing haze floods the hidden floor boards,
the stained walls.
The prevarication is located in the detrimental couches.
...

I hesitate at the shiny blue and gold toys gracefully haunting the carpet.
Their tiny feet quickly caress the hushed floors.
I do not want this.
...

You are the cool girl.
With your melted gaze that fixes on the underlying need for assurance.
With your enticing palms that caress the handle and press into the tantalizing button that pours our rookie comments and lonesome thoughts into a red solo cup.
For you are not me.
...

On my right, a broken lower back.
Filled with the heaviness of three restaurants owned.
He's making breakfast with a bird on his shoulder.
...

The carpet stained with eulogies
reflects the tantalizing french doors
that create a nexus to the sermon.
It's his brother.
...