Saturday, September 28, 2013

leaves changing color

The shortest hand possible. I drove through the rain and laughed as I hydroplane, the back spins out, and I realign with the runway. Accents and tired facade. Idiot with a slacking, lagging jaw. Feeling myself disintegrate and become sallow. Where did the inspiration to create greatness go exactly. I've distracted from vocalizing and writing to pursue natural highs and family bonding time. One of these stunts growth and guides people to safely land on a plateau in a snow storm, comfortably covering you like soft blankets, massage fingers of addiction burying into your spine and doctors can't remove those dense surgical wires after a certain infection spreads, becomes ionized in the blood, creating pockets of air in the vessels that pop into confetti. You are craft supplies. Your skin cells coalesce with childhood glue. We fold and cut paper snowflakes. Trying to 'accidentally' cut suggestive shapes into the folds. Never worked out well and our artistry was questioned. Future hopelessness and betrayal. 

Allow myself briefly to become consumed with the weight of all averted past pressing on my eyelids day and night. Sleeping so deep in comatose bed frames, the truck of treasures at my feet with no key and that box will drive me crazy like nails into the center of my skull, curious cats slipping off thin branches and falling to their death feet first, masts raising on the horizon of reflecting water. We made our parents sad and thoughtful. 

We drank illicit sake from an oak barrel. Brown in color and texture. Induce hallucinations. Organize the work space and then return to a work environment once the jungle has been charted and explored. 

To Seattle we go with our false identification cards as relics to our younger recklessness. Our jeans are torn and we act as hero to the fate of the stories. 

Skipping the productive motions due to some climate acclimation and my vocal chords dealing with the shock of genuinely cold air as fall strikes through my coat no matter how thick. 

I won't lose heart to find my heart again.