But I Tried So Hard
Posted November 7, 2010on:
Gatherings of modest raindrops make their way across November skies. Staggering south as the wind blows. Hard. 55 now. Hugging pavement. Between all the lines. . Remains of your reflection loitering in my rear-view. My eyes begin to leak with curiosity. A fragile sensation. Pupils go numb. So stuck on staring at yours. Through yours. The answers caught beneath the irises. Such pretty irises. So perfect. So neat. . Yet who am I to be the judge of that? I suppose I will never know; I cannot see from the inside-out. So I remain silent. Sometimes not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world. Mind over matter, fucking with these filthy feelings. But feeling fucks back. . A witch with a massive, black book of ugly, mean spells. Cast upon unsuspecting souls. 360′s on the spinal cord. A spiral staircase of white. There is no escape. There is no end. .