As I am driving through this nameless countryside there are a hundred red lights blinking on the hillsides as far as the eye can see.
And I think to myself, "Oh, the resemblance to life those fleeting lights hold. They are there and gone so quick."
And as I sit in this car listening to blurred together songs I feel so small, so insignificant.
And I realize how I wish to be the dark lights that don't blink at all.
I think I already am.
The ridges on my skin are only as high as a Catholic, my feelings as deep as a hurricanes stormy seas and my expression as blank as a white sheet of paper.
It states something, a blank paper, I think.
It shows that no thoughts are better because you can insert whatever you would like me to imagine right there in my expressionless eyes.
But with you I believe I felt something, a glimmer of love maybe?
But you didn't see even a sparkle.
Who is going to love you now?
Who is going to hold you and pick up broken pieces?
Not me.
I can guarantee that.