I am aimless in the typography of simple moments where the lines change and suddenly they’re asking from me.
Where did I go?
What am I thinking about?
How do I feel?
The endless parade of the safest valley on earth.
The way the mountain ranges hug the fault line and enunciate that I will be ok while they keep me sedentary,
watching as the snow piles on the hill sides and melts away with each season,
I became addicted to the fog
hugging the ethereal realm of consciousness,
unlike the bitter evergreens tickling the sides of jagged rocks,
lightly dipped clouds slowly secreting drops of dew seemed to delicately keep me at ease,
calm my bitter, ever-growing disease.
you told me it would end the way it needed to
I thought those were the worst moments in my life.
somewhere inside I heard the senseless pounding of hope compromising
repeating the same thick mantra of I would only claw my bloodied fingers onto simpler heights
The way the rings delicately sat on top of each other
how it steamed up the sides of the white walls
expected nothing less from existence when my eyes finally lifted
from the heavy slumber
how the florescent
at first glance
did not bring me to my knees
any kind of inspiring prose
or please
it just lulled me into
another moment where my
eyelids
begged for visions
of
from the highway you can see this one view
twenty minutes north of California
my hair is blowing in the wind, caught by the ripping shards of desert tempermant
the way you smoke your cigarette as if
any day one of them will be your last
succulent gliding allegory of the brutal
moments of leisure connection brings
while it rips itself from our absent moments
the sun is right above
if you listen closely
there is the song
slowly humming
the one i played
repeatedly for you.
