Empty cough drop wrappers cover the passenger floor mat
as I veer into the other lane, nearly causing an accident.
I deserved that *******.
Cough drops are romantic lies,
apologies to unretractable insults,
Promises to change the direction of gravity.
Malaria carrying mosquitos
dying in shallow spider pits,
Arachnophobia carrying spiders
dying in shallow human fits.
There's often beauty in nasty things:
in,
the tingle of concussion's metallic taste,
or of licked ****** electricity,
or of sweet antifreeze flicking off a poor
cats unknowingly poisoned
curious-tongue,
in happiness somehow felt
in life's loneliest hours.
in the fond & fleeing feel of freedom in weightlessness,
the sedation of time,
the **** of sensations,
the last painless moment felt as your car
tumbles down hill,
out of control before wrapping around an
adolescent redwood.
In life's darkest moments,
happiness
and peace
and serenity,
can thrive.
Yet, within serenity also thrives disassociation:
… the tickling silence of tide pullback, exposing rock & reef, before Poseidon's tsunami blooms in.
… the isolated ear-ringing of an angry mob's buzzing cacophony as pathological panic seeps in, following the first & only restful moment between fighting for life,
and giving up.
…the happiness hidden in frostbite's burning warmth and the euphoria of stabbing the ******* clown she used as a grinding post to destroy a decade of hard work before reality sets-in and actions birth consequences‽
**** me in the back of your car,
untinted windows,
let anyone see.
Screaming streams of headlights shine stars in my welling eyes and I can't believe you don't want me any more.
Erik Svarr
21:54 Mar 15, 2015
Highway 880 Frontage Road
Oakland, Ca.
