at first, i almost wrote about why kevin and bean piss me off.

I.

There's something in the grass. As though it has a flaky scalp.
And a scent in the air. As though I'm in my mother's house 15 years before now.

There's a child behind me, before me, beside me. I'm sure there's one above me.
One below me, but I don't want to think about that.

It's holding my hand. Clutching my arm. Tugging my belt loop.
I detatch it from my physical contact.

Stop following me.
I don't know where I'm going.