thrashing
writhing
twitching
your breaths are
silent screams of
hot air and spit
and then
broken throats
you're imploding
because exploding would
be too loud.

.

Streaks of light.

.

Orange hazes through closed eyelids.

.

Counting cars, watching headlights.

.

Wondering to where everyone speeds off.


//


Lose count.

.

Resort to counting freckles

On your nose.

.

Your face is lit by

Passing cars and

The highways in your eyes.

.

you called me wild
i labeled you sane
we prayed to the same god
that someday we would
stand together in the rain

-cj

You don't belong here,
No. Not at all.
Go find someone else's mind
In which to crawl.
And what right do you have
To keep my vision
From being clear?
You don't belong here,
No. Not at all.
And when backward you call,
It is you
That I will not hear.
And whatever has possessed you
To be so arrogant and insincere,
When I have always been
Nowhere for you,
But here?