contract. collapse. come back.
2006-04-23 12:16 p.m.
lately, i am the opposite of inspiration, and quietlooms up, wells up inside of me, a social criticism
that i am too unarmed for voicing, because i am weak and weary, i am born and ready,
and i avoid the garden that once bore me out in lovesongs, in collapsible phrases, in parting ways and putting up defenses, i am wrong
(so)
i cower in the front seat and learn to name the highway by it's own marks, works undone to follow me south, undoing more things (or at least thinking about it, some cover-up for sixteen when i thought the world was righteous, and i know i am not so much older
but it sure as hell feels like it.)