seasonal forests,
the Wilshire fit.
I am not me.
I am not you.
My hair is parted differently.
we could start tonight:
slide the deadbolts open:
faithless plastic gasoline HEARTLESS humanbeings.
if you want to live.
well, go on living.
just keep dancing within your vacant chair.
this essay has to end somehow.
I called ya five times.
this weekend was built upon hope.
I have absinthe in my window.
lights on.
then feet.
there is no blood.
when the words are gone.
I have been singing since you're you.
simple machines.
relying on relief.
a long-awaited answer
to an old dream
of railroads;
this helps to betray memories.
this is how we are sustained.
this is perfectly based upon the leaves.
you do not worry.
you do not try.
the wind and winter have froze your eyes.
you can't go to vocal bulks.
I wish not to defend.
But I can't help it.
sometimes owls,
seasonal forests.
I think you know better,
so why even bother?
distraction and letting you go.