I glanced out my passenger window on my way to the city and saw a woman's left hand dangling out her driver's side: long white nails and a ring that screamed money and taken.

A terrifying, intangible site that smells suburban and stale and what I know everyone wants for me.

My nails are cut short, and I know I'm headed in the right direction.

Like butter and sugar
Oh, we could mix
So sweet and rich and full of potential

They say she won't melt in the rain
-But oh how she cried-
You'd think I would realize how easily she could render

But by the time I thought twice
-The sugar expired-
And the butter will never now how sweet it could be

Jan. 22nd, 2013

The bird tweets, but not for you.
Like a teapot screaming with no one to remove it;
Your voice is like a teleprompter on a fuzzy station telling me the evening news

But it's not as if you are hallowing out my bones with every word
The rings of age on my trunk are colored red and blue when you were there
but now green with life and growth and care

and I can't figure out if I'm completely full of ****
or if I'm just over it.

Lovely - and I mean LOVELY
     lovable, beautiful, funny
No one you could find in a
   /story book/
  /cinema film/
/shopping mall/
like my redundancy?
I'm trying to get you to see
that calling her lovely
is practically
redundant
because
in Webster,
if you look it up,
it should say
  *Alex Lewis

How bad is it
   that I need to see
the Devil in you
   that's humanity?

With other intentions
That we never mention
It's like a whole new dimension
Full of blanketed ideas
and thoughts
and intentions
Did I mention?
I want to get married and have kids and a pet and drink wine and roast green beans and fulfill things
Should I have brought this up before?