Third Day

Diary entry 439

The last time I played this soundtrack with a pen in my hand, it was bone against bone. The jar of your smile which I have carried with me everywhere hit my concrete joy. The clash broke it. I was told the smile I now wear is a mixture, hence its impurity. I think it is fake, you say it is like sunshine on a sad day, we agree it needs to go.
I assume the same position as the day of the accident. Hands in the air, voice box in unrelenting motion, and a glass of wine. I tried to break my face, tried to break my lips and the smile and I end up with three cuts and a bad tooth. The glass got stuck in my eyes and time froze. I wear the glass now, they brighten my day. The cut is now a tribal mark, a reference for survival. And you…..are now soul as your smile is mine.

LARDO