I am aimless in the typography of simple moments where the lines change and suddenly they’re asking from me. 

Where did I go? 

What am I thinking about? 

How do I feel?

The endless parade of the safest valley on earth. 

The way the mountain ranges hug the fault line and enunciate that I will be ok while they keep me sedentary, 

watching as the snow piles on the hill sides and melts away with each season, 

I became addicted to the fog

hugging  the ethereal realm of consciousness,

 unlike the bitter evergreens tickling the sides of jagged rocks,

lightly dipped clouds slowly secreting drops of dew seemed to delicately keep me at ease, 

calm my bitter, ever-growing disease.

you told me it would end the way it needed to

I thought those were the worst moments in my life.

somewhere inside I heard the senseless pounding of hope compromising  

repeating the same thick mantra of I would only claw my bloodied fingers onto simpler heights

The way the rings delicately sat on top of each other

how it steamed up the sides of the white walls

expected nothing less from existence when my eyes finally lifted

from the heavy slumber

how the florescent

at first glance

did not bring me to my knees

any kind of inspiring prose

or please

it just lulled me into

another moment where my

eyelids

begged for visions

of

from the highway you can see this one view

twenty minutes north of California

my hair is blowing in the wind, caught by the ripping shards of desert tempermant

the way you smoke your cigarette as if

any day one of them will be your last

succulent gliding allegory of the brutal

moments of leisure connection brings

while it rips itself from our absent moments

the sun is right above

if you listen closely

there is the song

slowly humming

the one i played

repeatedly for you.