Radioactive Roadkill
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radioactiveroadkil.bsky.social
Radioactive Roadkill
@radioactiveroadkil.bsky.social
🦴 If you see me on the side of the road, take a piece of me with you
💀 A wondering minds thoughts as it lays dying on the side of the road.
Weighing the stone in my stomach against the boulder in my heart. It does not matter which is heavier. I know two things;

I cannot reach you with them weighing me down

And I am not strong enough to lift them.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
The rock in my stomach shifts again.

The boulder in my heart does not care.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
The life I could lead without these burdens, like god, like my god, does not exist. This temple is built upon sand. This monolith is nothing but a child's cairn stacked before the flood.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
These stones build a monolith dedicated to a dead god. One I still worship who would spurn me if he saw me now. Or maybe that's only what I would do. He does not know resentment or shame. He never had to hold these weights while treading water.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
Did I not build these dark devices!? Did I not have a reason? Am I mad and created something so meaningful without a meaning?
No.

No!

Flagstone. A path

Cornerstone. Intent

Capstone. Finality
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
They are awful.

They are my treasures.

I will not let them go.

I will keep the anchor as the sail frays to nothing, and if the ship is sinking then what's a little more weight!?
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
My resentment and shame were not found in one night. I crafted them on gilded pedestals, I placed them at the center of my mind's dark garden, I lay guard by them every night like a beast with no higher calling.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
Both echo too loudly with footsteps, not voices.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
Seasons of violent storms of slamming doors and raging rivers of words held behind dams of clenched teeth for too long, would have broken these cancerous weights quickly and long ago. But we built our home in subtle climates. It's rafters my ribs, it's hallways your eyes.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
Who put them there? Still waters and slow pressure. Soft winds and time. Volcanic heat and Arctic waters. Each new coat of fine granular pain and distance, left to set and harden, undisturbed, before the next warm indifferent rain.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM
But at least it doesn't hurt. The heart stopped hurting so long ago. A lifetime of strata absorbs the seismic rhythms of joy and betrayal, longing and loneliness. Coldness and warmth.
June 26, 2025 at 3:19 PM