PASSING FOR NORMAL

The worst part of my day …
Is road kill…
Nothing feels, smells or sounds interesting
It all adds up, layers upon layers
Nothing feels, smells or sounds real
A blur
The extravagant colors and textures and shiny words
Dark roads accessorized chests and jeweled bistros
Hands knocking on mats on spreads and tears
Heads knocking against the knots of time
Against the walls against a million question
The oblivion that wipes the days the dreams the laughs the fears
The nothingness
Of belonging of age of knowledge of love,
The empty road of tomorrow

The best part of my day is the sunset
As I drive by the beach
As I think of you …

I would tell you where I am
Friend, only if I knew ...