Once upon a time there was an angry coyote
that did a lot of booze, grass, coke, and peyote,
and sometimes wrote a few things that were fine.
He created many a society
where he hid his anxieties,
and shunned all sobriety
for the sake of covering cracks in his mind.
He'd found a place in the dredges
of a world lived on knife edges
and said he was content to stay there
because, quite frankly, he just didn't care.
Then a day came where it all came undone.
A woman appeared who refused to call this shit fun.
She kicked down the door
for once unignored.
She walked in and saw a mess of a place.
And a face
with the scars of a poorly run race.
He looked up and saw a bit of himself, but with the markings of a ram.
She was stubborn with hellfire--and refused to be damned.
She nodded and said, "Let's go for a walk."
He grunted and replied, "Yeah, I guess we'll talk."
They treaded outside to a night thick and hot.
Around the shed where firewood had been left to rot
She paused, stopped, let him lead the way,
and pitied how he'd led his life so astray
as she picked up the shotgun she'd hidden away.
She raised the gun and pulled the hammer back.
He turned and, without much surprise, asked, "Oh. Well, how long was this coming?"
She aimed for the head and said, "A long time, Honey."
The gun went off with a blast. Fire from the barrel blinded the night. Birds screamed and flew through the dark. And to Red's surprise, when her vision cleared and the smoke wafted away, she found no one on the ground.
She found no blood against the wall.
In fact, what she found, was nothing at all.
As if it'd really been her all along.
writing, driving, talking to people, being awesome, being sexy, and general tom foolery in general.
- Fur Affinity Page
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