Don't be so angry

Cigarette **** cracked sidewalk, red Jeep, blue eye, green

It’ll all be as wispy as the clouds sultry streaks

That dance in my eyes

I have to look up

I have to

Perfume, *** too much cologne, dryer sheets

I’ll hunt you with the crazed eye of my nostrils lust

But I won’t chase you down

I’ll stick my hands into my pockets and keep my eyes locked on the stop sign ahead

High heels, click click clicking, you have gum on your shoe

I say to myself

Quietly

I’ll warp my mouth into a makeshift zipper

So nothing

Not even the huff of my breath

Will make my outline crimson and bold

I’ll take out another cigarette

Two or three

To look occupied

And not twisted and contorted like my restless legs

Jutting out like a dam tittering on the edge of destruction

Your skin emanates warmth as painful as the suns elongated rays

Even those lips curling into a smile

I’ll just panic from my toes up

And there’s no telling what my limbs will end up doing

Melt and dismember into geometrical tragedies

I don’t need the quizzical stares

I’ll just make sure I don’t take my eyes off the sidewalks path

I won’t let them gleam with visions

Of empty bottles

And tatters of lives better left stuffed

Between couch cushion blues

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