When I asked for silence
I didn't mean silence
I meant get out of my mind
because I am supposed to be the master

my thoughts are stars
I cannot fathom into constellations
my thoughts are speedway cars
they wont pace themselves consistent
my thoughtless days are like my self control
nonexistent

I thought of an odd personality facet I have earlier today in class
I grin, smile, beam, twinkle, simper, leer, smirk
my cheeks feel as if they were about to burst
like a balloon that when I'm around someone who breathes
the balloon slowly expands into a rubbery piece of rubber
and right when it's inflated fully...
it pops.
all of the air floats away and makes someone else's day
and I'm left cold and let's face it, sad.
this cycle repeats constantly
and I don't know if I should breathe
because if I do, someone else will be happy and it wont be me

I set my cruise on the highway and
am passed by a red AMC Eagle.  
This red rusty AMC Eagle has a
wind shied covered in frost because,
I'm guessing, the defrost motor burned
up in a bakelite mushroom cloud from the
dashboard.  
It is held together with duct tape
and grit.  The pilot sits behind his cardboard
console ludicrously warm in winter parka,
scarf,
hat
and gloves.

I pass him waving dressed
in my tshirt and shorts.
Driving in my new, awesomely
economical car.
Four dashboard vents dump lava warm air
to keep me pleasingly toasty.
The pilot will never understand that I wave
not at his expense, but in envy.  The billboard
on my right says it all,
If I have to explain you wouldn't understand.

Modern man stood--
Looking towards the horizon, seeing the past.
The red blood of a thousand dying sunsets
colored his face in ghosts.
Unmindful of the Tears flowing freely
man lifts its hand to reach out--
Native spirits of a desolate world
cast their gazes away and toward the ground.