But under the silence of what we say to each other, is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other,
a storm of things unspoken, coiled, reserved, appointed, ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb: crash, fire, demolition wound up in the quietly, almost tenderly, small, familiar things unspoken.
driving in my car nearing the next intersection green light its okay to go i see you perpendicular to me a red light illuminating your face you appear to be stopping an illusion of safety because you are not stopping neither of us are stopping we are hurling towards each other becoming closer and closer together nearly inches from each other my life is flashing before my eyes i look into your big brown eyes bracing for inevitable impact and we crash debris flying everywhere fire kindling over our engines metal scraping upon metal our cars dragging across the cold hard cement sirens blaring in the distance i feel blood running down my body im gasping for breath unable to move a single limb but i scan my eyes over the scene searching for you i need to make sure you are okay i see you step out of your vehicle not a scratch upon your body i call out for you but no words come out of my mouth only murmurs i try to reach out for you demanding your attention but i cannot seem to muster the strength and then your eyes meet mine and my heart refills with your passion i remember all the love you have given me before all the moments we have shared together you look at me with a cold stare like you dont even recognize me then you turn around begin to walk away from me and flee the scene of your crime you left me in ruins destruction to smithereens and then walked away like i meant nothing you were never concerned with me you were just a reckless driver and i guess i was just at the right place at the right time
Sometimes they crash down and the waves take me with them. Like a tsunami, it’s unexpected. You usually know the signs, but once it starts, there’s no changing it. There’s no going back, it’s not a choice. It’s just a deadly fight against nature and water and time... I always come up for air before it’s too late, but with my eyes closed, I don’t know up from down. Am I plunging into the depths or rising towards the horizon? I don’t know... I’m just swimming.
I got dem B-Side blues, perforated shoes of my own design, off color flag of mine. I got dem prescriptions, I'm passively shunned by the typical, like it matters at all. I got dat bizarre brain, patterns I contain automatically run 'crash.exe'. I got dat problem child run rampant wild here within my ranks - what deserves thanks? Nothing at all. And everything. I know this well, now.