|
| |
Split Screen
Two people are on the screen which one is your dream? Two dresses are hanging on the door which one did you picked up on the shore; two cabs are waiting at the gate which one is your date? This place is infested with two of everything and it is hard for me to sing.
Every time I start to investigate, the man that lives down the road shows up at the gate. What is going on in the back yard? it is filled with plastic bottle and the garage is piled up with boxes from the bottom straight up to the ceiling and the tool box is sitting at the back. What am I to make of it? Nothing seems to fit, the dress, the cab, the boxes and the tools, I am no April fool but whatever it is I am going to get to the bottom of it.
You have to set your mind apart to tackle the problems before it gets dark; midnight is on one side of the screen and daylight is messing with my dreams. I will give you some time to think it over before the marathon game begins. I am going to Paris to have fun and it’s time for you to get real and work out an acceptable deal.
I have to protect myself with a semi-automatic pistol that is planted underneath the bed; I will travel with it to Paris, just in case I am attack by some Olympic fanatics. The gun registration is already done and gun’s legality are documented; time is on my hand and I want you to take a stance on the split screen.
I will take you way back in time when you started writing the cook book; you were in your heyday and no one could say anything to you or they would get their head blown through the roof. You had a party every night on the beach, in the bar and your discrete private properties and you made everyone happy but “she” was unhappy.
You never invited her; you didn’t communicate with her but you keep watching her; she had no comfortable place to sleep and nothing nutritious eat, her clothes have reduced to rag, her shoe has worn out and every time I looked at her I feel sad, she works night and day and her body is wasting away and every day you are partying your life away. If anything, happen to that woman; no one would forgive you, they will tie you to the back of the truck and drive you around the town square until you reel out like thread
Split screen is messing with my dreams, split screen is the heart of the scene, he watches night and day, and no matter what she does she cannot breakaway; he tied her down with a shoe lace and ties her spirit to the tree so that she can cater to his manipulative needs.
The relationship is withering as they draw closer to the end spring and the summer heat is chiming and he swore to kill her if she leaves him. Modern day slavery is back and you have to remove the chains and locks,
The split screen is moving in front of you, the split screen has captivated me and you; show me the diamond and the golden ring and I will tell you if she has gotten the green light to go.
The split screen is messing with her lifelong dreams.
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
|
|