Another fragment...

The pieces of this piece

Let the words breathe

Their way onto the page

This way

No one gets hurt

That isn't already broken

See the simulacra scene

Projected in second hand screenings

of second hand stores'

second handed copies

Seconds ticking away

Seconds at a time

No firsts within them

But lasts in every one

Catch no glimpse of heaven

With eyes upon the scene

of all these things they've seen

They don't look for heaven here

The eyes find other things

See in them reflecting

on the various

hells

or circus

acts

All the abnormal things

Or the normal

Sub-standard/Standard

things

It's not polite to stare

It's impolite to turn away

It's expected that you notice

But not mention what you see

So don't say a word

Just breath

in and out

Try to look past it

as if it's both there and not

That way nothing

gets hurt

But what's already broken

No sobbing seen

No seeing scene

Just breath the words

onto the page

So they won't be heard

No one gets hurt

No one gets well

Nothing changes

Except whatever does

But that isn't for anyone to say

And if they do...

Shame

shame

(same)

Just breath the words onto the page

Despite how they might read

So no one gets hurt

That isn't already broken

So nothing breaks

But what's already shattered

The pieces of this piece

Breaking

down, away, or through

The pieces of each piece

left fully up to you