I. A Washing of Hands
Disown. No one owns me. I could not sell myself if I tried. I belong to me, an inheritance thrust upon me. Gaea looks at a parasite. She is my life. Thrust upon her. She burns crimson. Is it fury or passion? She must be cured. Purified. I am disowned.
Wrath. There is a Book that says I am deserving of it by nature. But none has been unleashed upon me. Do you love me? Can I have your wrath? I'm so tired. Please.
Bliss. I curse that which curses me. Philosophers, ethicists, torturers alike wonder. I wonder. A temporary gift is a sign of enmity or business. So which is it?
Journey. I am traveling. Or perhaps hurtling. Earth, terra firma. Never in the same place twice. But never anywhere else, either. I journey. But am I going anywhere?
V. Brave Sir Robin
Flee. One half of our options when pressed. Did I have a choice? There are points on a subway's route where you can get off. They are called "stops". But which stop is mine? Maybe I'll catch it on the next loop.
Valentine. No one owns me. Only I will be mine. Chemical bonds are defined based on the behavior of valence electrons. When shared, the bond is covalent. Valence electrons are the outer edge. The brink. Out of many, one. Some atoms have complete valences on their own. Out of one, one.
VII. For Now/Forever
Melancholy. A state of mind, or a way of life. A perspective, really, moreso than a feeling. Did I have a choice? The sky is a lovely grey today.
Disown. Wrath. Bliss. Journey. Flee. Valentine. Melancholy. I am disowned by one who loves me. One who forgets. I am filled with either wrath or a desire for wrath. Do unto others... I am enraptured by bliss, then abandoned. I am journeying, but all journeys end. Never trust stagnant water. I am overcome by the urge to flee, to find somewhere that is away. I am invited to be a valentine and ice fear permeates my heart. Eight valence electrons. I am deceived by melancholy. Do you sell glasses the opposite of rose-tint? I am ignorant, ungrateful, malcontent; given much, wanting more. If you give a mouse a cookie...