We found an Over-Bright White Box inside my Shoulder Blades. It breaks and turns into a Meadow.

Tuesday Evening
1 min readMar 30, 2022

--

My shoulder blades are slitting.

We peek and see

an over-bright white tiny box.

We walk inside it.

the room is overly bright colored by white fluorescents.

it smells of cleanliness with a pinch of cloves.

There’s a zombie woman with protruding eyes who keeps shouting, a chair with chains on, and a little girl who shakes like a little chick.

Wooden Mickey Mouse hanging on the wall.

I look closely.

It smirks kindly,

transforms into a pinkish-purplish-sparking phantom Mickey,

flying out, and start marching.

We start dancing.

we start barking —Blink Blink Sparkling!

the angry sticking-out-eye collapses.

we start smashing —Blink Blink Sparkling!

the chair collapses and breaks into pieces.

we keep dancing along and around.

the little girl dances too.

— the box breaks.

we dance,

in the vast green field of meadow.

I open my eyes, laying warmly in my yellow boat.

floating and facing the dry sunshine.

The slitting still lingers on my shoulder blades.

a little flash of an artificial strawberry and mint scent in my mouth,

a jelly touch, and gone so quickly.

The over-bright white box was no way to be found.

--

--

Tuesday Evening
Tuesday Evening

Written by Tuesday Evening

Poet Wannabe, Post-consumerist Practitioner, Sense Experimenter, & the Devil’s Advocate. Trying to merge all into my pieces here.