the salt breeze air the smallest things
the vapor song on valleys in the morning hanging veil like
misty air
wonder what they hide
there
the green trees on the edge
of the forest the of an overgrown untouched
someone or something
I travel wondering
mystic like
almost so many things wondrous to expose
these years days or moments
i have left
so I sit in the van
trying to stay between the lines
when I have
this urge to
veer

They didn't listen when I said I was tired
I said that being different was hard
Because my jeans  don't fit right
My actual genes weren't right

And so I came out in comparison to everything
Already didn't have a father to teach me
The skies will cry if he ever tries to reach me
Not knowing who to trust was something girls my age don't worry about

They're far too happy living oblivious
And I question myself off of this-
How do they possibly not know
That they are all the same person?


Same gloss on smooth Pink lips
Smiling a shark smile that they do like kindness
And they name the rainbow by shades of eyeshadow- as if there wasn't enough color

   Girls like that are happy with the same person for a week
And yet I cannot be happy with myself for a day
Then they switch partners because "Don't  worry he's sooo cute!"
  
  I wonder if they are happier naive
And how hard it will be for them when they realize how the skies are actually smokey black
And they've been looking up through perfect eyelashes- but beauty doesn't last

   It must be nice always being average
With a cover girl to cover you sitting next to you
And manicured nails to scratch your way through life

If you see me on the steps,
of the tattered old church,
perhaps I have made a little progress.
Dunwich is a tough place to live,
but the folklore is rich.
In fact, if indeed I am sitting along the steps,
I would be right near a witch and a vampire,
a few ghosts,
and a revival of my spirit.