She watched the rain hit the window and collect in droplets
that slowly made their way down the fogged glass.
Her forehead rested against the car door,
she breathed slowly and deeply,
lulled from the hum of the engine.
Bits of an old rock song drifted softly
from the radio.
A man sat behind the wheel,
her current beau.
He was potbellied and smelt of
cigarettes and stale cheap beer.
He hummed, out of tune to the song.
His hand rested on her thigh,
she sighed and peered past the raindrops
to the brilliant red and white lights flashing by.
Closing her eyes, she imagine herself in the
midst of the whirling colors.
Overwhelmed, drunk, and happy.
She opened her eyes,
looked at the fat driver,
who gave her an ugly grin
and kissed her roughly on the mouth
and patted her cheek.
She stared at the accumulated raindrops,
He rolled down the window and spat,
she stared at the dark sky,
the rock song transitioned into a blues melody.
Her forehead rested once more against the car window,
her eyes unfocused.

Likewise vanished and collapsed to a destructive state – weighted space spreads across unevenly but equally sequential in relevance to the make up of your matter. For the crossing falls closer to that which floats up, or burrows down. Following the line of least resistance when gravity can be considered a burden.

Onward with the dead bodies floating in and out of our solar system. ****** victims with cracked helmets dancing together in an eerily serene motion where they follow sonic waves from this way to that. These are the new beginners whose marrow will travel to worlds yet undiscovered.

It is the equivalence of the ***** that makes the journey into the birth canal to fertilize the egg. The once living, now dead, finding a new reason for meaning where the marrow finds placement on a mass of fertile dust.

New planets are made with a sickness. Spores and mold grow into rage for the betrayal that laid the god body to rest. Their concept of creation has no meaning.  Hatred fed by existence considered bad luck at best.

You stare up at me, looking for answers.
But little do you know,
I am holding on to my insecurities for dear life.
My grey complexion is trying so hard
to cover up the truths I cannot swallow.
I am angry, sad, hopeful, in love, but
clouds can't have emotions right?
well
what do you think rain is for?
I stare back down at you because you
don't realize how similar we are.
But I'm just water vapor in the sky...
Well you're just a carbon-based life form.

I am selling away these board games,
The Sorries, the Troubles, and the Twisters
On which I struggled competitively with you.
My yard sale stifles the lawn,
Pours over my patio and infiltrates my porch swing.

I am selling each game piece, each memory,
Each pair of dice and their two-sided arguments.
They are thrown from my mind once they are carried
Away by strangers who thought them a bargain.

I am selling our immature conflicts,
The jail in my Monopoly
And the alarm clock in Don’t Wake Daddy.
Even Candy Land for me is age appropriate no longer,
As you continue to barely meet its mental requirements –
“for ages 3 and up.”

So I am selling away these amusements
Stacked firmly upon cheap plastic tables,
Feeding my palms with the richness of your absence.
Perhaps your game of Life will entertain one of my buyers,
Taking your cardboard words of wisdom
With an appreciation that I no longer have.
I wish them luck with their future mind-Scrabble,
As their pursuits will be a Risk yet unknown.

Our hands clenched together
In a spontaneous dash,
We fly down the grand staircases and swirling halls
Of the Atlantis at 3 a.m.

I,
Skidding to a halt in triumph,
Push toward the wall of sleek windows
Containing the exotic creatures
Swimming swiftly and sweetly
Through the dark water of the night.

And you, my dear,
Drunk with the ancient incense
Of island air and twilight,
Nourish my curiosity with your voice.
“Go ahead.”

We approach the world of blue
And lift our faces to the glass,
Pressing coolly against the fins
Sprinkled with deep, dark gold.

Through the water I see
The scales twinkling in your eyes,
And in secret I see them return a gaze
Through the reflection of the window
Softly sprinkled with life.

The black deer graces headlights again,
Unusually an often occurrence.
Beams burn the animal,
But it feels love.
Absolutely, entirely backwards.
The deer is broken,
Like the light reflecting off your cheeks.
Head pain, a headache,
Left little for the mind to chew
And I've been suffering for weeks now.
I drew inspiration from dust off strangers feet.
I've never been so dull, so bland, so colourless.
Mental instability, she's pretty but she's dead
And he's looking for cheap ****.
Welcome to psychedelia and the twisted webs of today's society.
Paint your own empty shadow,
No one else wants it until you join pop
And pop ain't my thing.

I sometimes wonder
what it'd be like to go into
the ocean, and never come back.
To swim out and sink
and let your lungs fill
while your body convulsively
fights in a desperate attempt for air.
To feel yourself slowly slip away
and become part of the black cold salt water
bobbing with the current
decaying
little fish nipping my toes
but I'd be gone.