pitter-patter

You’re alright, everything’s normal, nothing untoward, you’re walking down an empty city street, barren night life. Glossy corporate facades aplenty. Couple of people nearby doing their people things; crossing roads.. speaking spoken language to one another. You’re alright, nothing unusual, you’re also doing people things.. Walking down a street.. blinking.. breathing.. nothing out of the ordinary. livid experience set to some kinda variation of the banal everyday.. You sit down. heart explodes. No reason. Heart exploded all over the bench. Bloodied butterflies with wild flapping bloody wings emerging from a flesh body husk. Bloodied bench. Heart exploded. That’s that. Done. Dust off your shoulders and your funny looking hat, pick up your legs and your oversized suit.. haul your open chest trunk cavity down through the street.. Butterflies fluttering overhead.. Raining heart blood all over you in little spits.. a-pitter-patter pitter patter