A country lane, which eats animals, earrings and experiences,
winds in spools around the oat-house and follows the broken wall.

My sister’s bottle green jeep made waves along the hedges,
she shook out her hairband and the conversations of the evening.

An owl asks on all sides, and would seem to answer himself as
the field barracuda, the vast wide eye for the minnow-mouse.

She put a pearl in the bushes, dangling spit-like,
an orb, a moon-berry, full and dead forever.
She drove faster, as the english night slowed down,
down by the where the willow covers the road sign.
She killed a badger,
as if they had both lost something here.

Sun-cooked,
crisp at the curling edges
he’s a dark patch, like a fixed pothole.
his bones tested her michelins in the morning
again, glassy eyed, stillened,
retroflective and blind to the shimmering shadow of flies
rising up through his skin like a spirit.

But both her ears are full.

I'm a casual, lenient soul
But when it comes to my words
I mean them with a heavy heart
I'm looking for a good time but its not what you think
I'm looking for someone to turn these boring drags into something worth holding onto.
A memory lane that goes too long to develop it all on camera.

let's take a trip down memory lane:
endless alleys of admiration
capture the moments we took for granted
these loveless sidewalks
radiate desperation
as we watched the little things
slip our attention

let's take a trip down memory lane:
the city streets pulsate your name
and embody the countless emotions
that we both possessed
but can you  tell me -
do you feel this boundless
corrosion found inside my chest?

With twisted interest
we watch the newsblonde
shot dead Live on TV
immune to an angry culture
we
search it out
watch her die
again & again

They call me the Girl Down The Lane
And they say I'm a little insane.
They say that I seem a little tame
Until I poke dead things that were recently slain.
I like to dance in the rain,
And I like to mess with people's brains.

They call me ******, bipolar at times.
They don't understand this mind of mine.
They don't know that I can shine
If I wasn't so confined
In this society where I have to be kept in line
With Lithium and Loxapine.

They say that I'm a nutcase,
That I lost myself up in space.
I can't help that my thoughts race,
That my hallucinations are a replacement
Of others; I'm down at a basement level.

But they don't care.

So I'm that girl down the lane,
That will always, always remain
The same;
I'm forever insane.

I got lost in those laughters and joy in the album of ours.
I found myself pumped with a big smile
and after, a long sigh.

but you are my Kryptonite,

and my Lois Lane.