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The screaming in my head
It's getting louder
What is happening to me
I just wish I could sleep
Just to be free
But I keep running
I've got to find you again
For that feeling you catalyze in me
Like wet flowers
Like hot blood
Breathe.
Where am I going?
A concoction of darkness and fog
clouds the road ahead. My map
sits somewhere in the back seat,
buried beneath the mounds of
fast food trash and travel essentials.
I wish I could find it now.

A month ago I passed a city. Back then
it was clear skies and bright signs.
Welcome to Big City, where all
your dreams come true. And it felt
like they did. Everything was fast, exciting.
I lived my life by the flashing neon and chrome.
24-hour liquor,
Girls, Girls, Girls,
Do Not Enter.
Thank God I got out of there. In
a city with no stop signs, you’re bound
to eventually have a wreck.

A week ago I found a country town.
The familiarity of skyscrapers was replaced
with silos and rotten barns.
Welcome to Small Town,
Population: You. In the unknown world
of small society, everything became bigger.
XXL
All You Can Eat
Welcome
What once was a race became a conflict
of common courtesy. You go. No, you go.
I had to leave, or I’d still be sitting
at a four way stop, waiting to move.

An hour ago I passed a church.
I wish I had stopped and knocked
on the door. Maybe they would have
let me stay the night, or at least
given me some directions. Since then,
the fog has thickened, making my
fading headlights as effective as a
butter knife on a steak. I want to get out
of this, to find a place to rest, but if I speed
up I’ll most surely crash, and if I stop I
might never find my way again.

Solace comes from a broken sign laying
in a dirt ditch next to a four way stop.
Proceed with caution.
Nobody listens
To what I have to say
Nobody cares
What I think anyway
I spill out my heart
But they don't no this
Even if I scream
No one will notice
The number of people
Who care about me
Shrinks everyday
As far as I can see
You took it from a handful
To two, as it seems
It's like I'm speaking yiddish
You don't know what it means
All that I ask
Is that you'll notice me
I'm withering to nothing
But you just can't see
Why is it that every thing I say to them goes in one ear and out the other?
I could be mean.
But somehow, I know the
Quality of Mercy.

I hate you.
I hate myself,
Because of you.

So why, if I hate you,
Do I still let you run my life and
Run ME into the ground?

For that answer I have been searching all of time.
The world is tired, the year is old,
The little leaves are glad to die,
The wind goes shivering with cold
Among the rushes dry.

Our love is dying like the grass,
And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
Half glad to see our poor love pass
Like leaves along the wind.
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