purple goop

Date: 12/18/2016

Sons fight their fathers. The fathers always lose, The sons have no boundaries. It is raining over there. The rain becomes purple hoop when it hits the skin. I have to brace it. The goop sticks and burns. Like orange napalm. Some people aren't. They seem like people, but they want your soul. When I stare at them, their faces start to change. Cracks form, noses bend, showing their truth. They try to attach to humans. We get rid of a bunch of them, and hide out in our lair. Cool yet ramshackle. Cozy. My friend and I stay in the loft. We bring home two of the nonpeople, because we like them. They seem desperate like they need a home. We tell the boss that this time will be different. We climb the stairs to our cozy loft.