03-01-05 - 20:30
It's been a cold drout
the kind that freezes the tumbleweeds
I go in places and I come out
I leave everywhere feeling less like myself than before
the rocks in the road
tumble and toss around
yesterday's news
panic is spread like butter on our morning toast
fear does more to shorten our lives than cholesterol
I stand at the end of my couch and scream at the television
but the lady on the news doesn't hear me
She's probably one of those people who shuts you out, anyway
you know, those people who practically have automatic ear-holes that open and close at will
when you start speaking contrariwise - it's closedville
toxic rain falls from God Knows Where
and I drip wet
nodding and knowing glances are exchanged
but not in the romantic sense
it's in that sense where I wonder if I became invisible
if I just vanished, for one day, what would it matter?
But then I would want to come back
and lick the chocolate icing off another birthday cake
and nurse one more hangover
because I'm a sucker for punishment
