walking out

CATEGORY

life

i wash the white
and black out the red
its all i keep contained within
that keeps my visions swerving
running into you again...
oops i am sorry,
my mouth didn''t mean to say those things
its just that my stomach sometimes pushes out tired of boiling,
burning acidic pains
and i can't help but to look at you sideways.
i'd leave if i could have the keys
or take the dog on my leash...
i don't mind walking,
really.
i could find a place under the shade
where it wouldn't look to funny if i sat down and prayed
with my hat, blocking the sun and keeping the sand
from kicking me in the face.
i have always got dirt in my mouth it seems
spouting out twisted little mind *** themes
and i wonder if we are living this just like it is my dream,
but no we aren't i see at the end of another
sleepy haze,
mom is still alive, the is still in your living room chanting and
you father still needs a hearing aid and my papa needs a brand new bag
or something so maybe he could carry some of this weight that he has
tacked on me.
i don't know
i feel the same.
awake. asleep. awake. asleep.
dream. reality. dream reality.
i don't know if my eyes are seeing you sitting there before me
sucking the life out of the lines in the road
as we start zigzagging into a new moment,
shifted,
our shoulders touching each other...
maybe we are the same height for a reason.
is it your birthday or mine?
i don't like it here,
you sit on this side and
i promise i'll tell you when i decide to drop my mind
and walk out on this whole thing
one more time.