Prologue: I'm wasted in my car, outside of his party, waiting until I'm sober enough to leave, and only a single streetlight illuminates my car enough to scribble down my thoughts as I watch him wonder out into the coming storm, perhaps looking for me, as I wallow in the dark,
feeding myself cigarettes.*
Shaker
Cliche but
These feelings are still in my palm, clenching seashells and breaking into bitter
brittle little bones to crack like the thunder outside my window.
White strikes against the dashboard
Sitting in my car,
Wondering how far I'll fall beneath you and
how long these clouds of rain will take to reach you.
But like I've said every time you never listened,
You'll walk right through them, right to them, never for a second ever needing to lead you to them.
Still you give me too much credit.
As much as you make me uneasy,
You make my job easy.
Flickering street lights, its dark, its early in the night.
I wish it was quiet.
But its never been silent here
The town shakes still, all night long, so tiring
The night shakes out still a car, cricket, or siren.
I stop here, its time to leave
