bad for you

10 days straight.
any questions asked
will be swept away.
dust pan and broom
scratches the surface of
beige leather
or tea with milk
soft hands brush soft hair
out of piercing eyes.
looking back
what you have are pictures
and words.
what you've always had
and what you must give away.

sleep can wait.
the human body tests its limits
daily
everything happens at night
everything worth living for.

trucks driven,
vans,
fancy cars without
acquaintances and
snarls.

you wont see the sun until 7
maybe
but light leads the way
the day breaks at 5am.
and life seems less livable.

the more you look at him
the less he seems.
before he was a figure in life
a statue of something preservable
inspiration, something to look up to.
ruin and love rip off his mask
to reveal the truth beneath.
his simplicity and lack of tact
burn perfect cigarette circles
into your memory.

to your closed eyelids
the car is infrared.
their outlines sear through
the sheet with bristles
radio, body, wheel
they all stay perfected in your mind
for just that moment.
and when you open,
a new world approaches
one with lights and solidity.
eyes closed, 2-d virtual
eye open, 3-d nerves.

in the van we chase a storm
to the beach where the lightening
strikes far off into the black ocean.
the tin water swallows the electricity.
the lights are bright on the strip
the sand gray, the air cold.
here, time is segmented
time comes in little bits and pieces
and each matter and are loved.
forgotten japanese gardens find their way
into your mind.

you're disconnected now,
a separate story from the rest.
the rain falls,
bites at your skin
and nothing matters anymore.
each mistake made
each slip of a finger
creates a smile
wide and bright that you must hide
behind foreign scarves.

the world is split
four parts, again.
deja vu makes its appearance
as always.
the familiarity brings warmth
and home.

each impulse comes in waves
radio, micro, unearthly
it crashes over you, like an ocean
and tightens your body
sets you straight
shiver and convulsions grind like gears
inside.
intoxication, it sets your skin on strings
lifts you up to where
it should be.

recklessness should be avoided
but here you stand in the middle
of everything you ever hated
and everything you said you'd never do
and in love with it you are.
you've never been so confused
and you've never smiled so wide.
but alone you are in a full car
everyone lives in their own world.

the LCD looks like a movie screen
old, cracks in the film
dust on the reel.

this isn't what you expect
but it's something familiar
amplified ten times.
maybe you just can't ever remember
'last times'
for you must forget to remember.

a weight on your stomach
literal and not figurative
it centers your attention
words repeat
'pure delight, sugar pie'
and rapid rivers flow past.
wrinkles in the sheet of water
black and the light is orange.

you hate yourself but
what else is new?

heat, rain.
legs bending like sandalwood inward
legs waterlogged,
face crumpling inwards, heavy
then stretched open into a gate.

light means sight
without it, you are one object
a machine, typical.

him, your existence.
a vehicle and the water.
a three part life.
beasts walk in front of you
lead the way to your blind eye
and your feet are sandpaper

the water floods the streets
turns asphalt to ocean
parking spaces and double yellow lines
just a part of the sea floor.
there are oceans in the parking lots.

naivety can be tasted in the air
and the climate is just rights.
the lightening falls into the gray sky.
what intimacy is here?
a car garage with numb fingers and spring water.
ranting to yourself
drowning in your owns words, causing heavy breath.

the one girl you are connected most with
you don't think she likes you
anyone or anything for that matter.
she sits with a blank stare
unaware, an apathetic injury.
this may be a horror movie.

you feel like a motherly figure
and yet one stands before you.
you feel as if you have a soul
and it comes from somewhere beautiful
celestial.
but the guilt swells up, too.

walking along
slogging to civilization
lost but not lost
a world you've forgotten
lived in
and are rediscovering.

each eye has its own perspective
each on a different path
a light shines through his middle
two halves are created
each eye has one, in focus and contrast

the subjects they speak of
sense is lost
and never found
and to you, it feels like metal ripping from cars.
she is so different,
cold, asleep
but awake.

silent screams are hidden
behind swirled lips
insanity ensues
it feels like you're going 12
on a 65 highway.
there is silence
but old NES sounds fill your ears
static and blips.

her eyes in the mirror
it's too dark to see
if she's watching.
breaks squeal and alleyways come in
to focus.
alleyways are taken and breathed in.
street lights create two lives
and now water is a fear.

right now, it feels like a family
and now you know the workings
of the universe, to some degree.
in front of you, a phone
misshapen, bent.
someone took your memory reel
and cut out segments with scissors.

animal instinct on the tip of your tongue.