a clock and a shadow

a deconstructed piece

Setting: A hot summer afternoon; the trees look glorious outside the window. The leaves are burning golden. The speaker is staring at the wall, red eyes, wringing hands.

Fuck the sense of and in this world; a dark sky rumbles with smoky clouds. Hunger- a- filth-

voice breaks

To be something, you have to become nothing; a door closes and out opens- a- hand- stretch- blessi-

voice breaks

I have been trying and trying and dreaming and believing and I was told that this could happen and I know that you can bring the world into your mind right in front of you, step into it- pressure- breath go-hard, is Go- watc-

voice breaks

My phone stares at me, and I turn my back towards it. Social media is advertised like baked chicken, but in reality, it is a juicy, fried pair after pair after pair of chicken wings, and I- book- pile- wanti- my heart- stop

voice breaks

Crush-teeth- bloodi- beginni- voice breaks. I remember when I had first felt the sharp jerk in my arm. I thought I’d lose my hand, and I did, because I am not sure why I cut myself years ago. Is anger a suitable emotion?

The years are coming ba-

voice breaks

The clock wins today. This bastard actually fucking got me.

The piece ends with the speaker smashing her head into the clock. The speaker is not a person. The speaker is not a half person. The speaker is not a quarter person. The speaker is a shadow becoming translucent as the day wanes past her body, right through her torso. She wipes the snot running down her nose with a handkerchief. She deletes her call logs and contacts; proceeding to delicately place her phone in the commode, she pisses on it. There is no blood running down her head. She twists it out of her neck and calmly lays it on the pillow, beneath the sun. She rolls open the bedsheet.

The speaker needs to rest.

Hello!! I tried to write in this manner for the first time. I call this a deconstructed piece. It is inspired by the deconstructionism in fashion that started in the 1980s by Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons, Yohji Yamamoto, Kansai Yamamoto, and Issey Miyake, which showed unfinished and fraying hems and seams of outfits, asymmetrically buttoned jackets, and more, as a reaction to French bourgeois customs. This style was further adopted by many designers like John Galliano, Alexander McQueen, and more. This piece effectively symbolizes a person who is crying angrily and finds her thoughts in disarray, almost breaking. It can also conjure up the image of a phone call in a low-network area. It is deconstructed because the thoughts are unfinished and are left up to your imagination. Complete them or leave them; this piece is now yours.