The words and lines
aren't coming today.
I lie down for a nap.
I dreamt of metaphors
and similes.
I woke up.
The years swim away
like bass at spawning
time.

It was the in-between.
The moments where we rode together home with no words.
It was just the ride.
The evening beacons (streetlights) guided us home.  
Our bikes we like cars to us.
Taken us to unknown places.

It was the in-between.
The moments we drove together into the night.
Leaving the evening beacons (streetlights) behind.
Ventured into the unknown of the dark with headlights leading the way.
Music carried on conversations about fell on black days and interstate love songs.
Some sang about the crashes of lightning and being far behind.
Our car was like a spaceship to us.
Taken us further into unknown places.

It was the in-between.
The moments where you would come down and just visit.
Under the evening beacons (streetlights) we conversed about it all.
Words took us past the farthest reaches of the unknown and further inward.
It's a forever expanse.
Music was there still. Bluetooth into some speaker.
We revisit the sites of our reached destinations.
Our visits were like a time machine to us.  
Taken us to any point in time we desire.

Occasionally I struggle to write,
Eyes glazed over late at night,
Drinking ink instead of ****** wine,
Breathing in antique paper smoke.
Chewing on pen tips,
One slips, I cut my gum,
Tell the dentist it's a canker sore.

My soul whines for true release,
For me to free myself from the foolish games we play,
But instead, me and Spotify play the polo,
The Gentleman's shuffling game.
So the night wears on,
I udder not a single yawn,
Lost in dark times,
People say they're scared for me.

Under the glow.
Into the subterranean.
Into the labyrinth of mushrooms.
Bioluminescent lights show me the way.  

Unable to see the sky.
I walk among the finger woods.
The lurking begins.
The watching of something in the grass beyond.

The lost ones found me.
They never went missing.
They have always been down here.
Where the world becomes bigger.

I decide to stay.
I become lost.
And found I belong.
Into the small songs below.

There is no need to
read

here of a wasted life. The
Days slide now into the

abyss.  

Neitxche saw the walls
close in a
drugged
relevation.

I cant scream his name

Or any other.

The echo has landed
And
I am strapped to here

forever.

Oh my God I survive
and You

have

Lied to me.

Caroline Shank
6.20.25

Treating ourselves with respect is essential for leading a happy and healthy life.

Can you hear the stars,
sweet infinite music
the whistled song of the sky as it soars above us,
yes, you with your phone clamped to one ear
are you deaf to the whistled tune of the universe
then you have truly lost connection