This Is The Land of The Free, Or Is It?
I only think in a smile of disguises.
No one really knows that I run on
Empty plans and caffeine eyes.
Tell me, why do I always yawn?
There is really no need to put the heat on in my car.
I already know that roads are full of broken dreams.
But I drive between these two highway lines,
So I can give you a place to overflow your eyes with streams.
Doubt is a statue titled, Will I believe in anything anymore?
No one knows if the past ever existed.
Another electric thought whispers to me: “nevermore”
Get off the exit and find my lungs twisted.
The rainfall looks like broken glass
On the corner of Water Street and Sunshine Way.
Pull up around the road where it says: “DON’T TRESPASS”
The sunset bleeds to signal the day’s deathbed.
Ignorance is a storm of uprooted residences with imaginary promises underneath.
Pass the house with a ‘72 chevy rusted to the frame.
“The youth doesn’t know anything!” says a man with fake teeth.
I wonder if the trees shake when they hear him announce the daily blame.
I remember the day when the congregation invited me to the Sunday service,
They gave me a book where the pastor keeps score.
They listen to the cries while the air remains still with nervousness.
I sit quietly in the church pew: there is nothing more.
The rain screams and tells me: “it’s time”
Pull alongside the dirt road with no name.
Where are you in this life of victimless crime?
Erect a headstone and bury all of your shame.
You appear in all black as you walk over to the passenger seat.
Open up the door and tell me anything
That I can keep.
Your eyes, hazel, speak more
Than words could pry.
You wear a face still and silent as stone, but I know there is fire in your core.
You pull off the disguise and cry.
Come into my tired arms,
Forget about the purity of your disbelief.
No need to keep the safety alarms on,
Pour out your grief.
Love is undefined in a universe of pixelated pleads of prosperity.
Your eyes are a garden of one thousand stars.
Find a place called home in the space in between our own clarity.
We know this moment is solely ours.
I close my eyes to feel you once more.
Drown the emptiness in a faraway wasteland.
But when I open my eyes: there is no one to account for.
You dissolve in thin air, ink into water seen firsthand.
I tell myself not to scream:
Because God always kills in the mirage of painted on smiles.
Nothing is ever as it seems.
I get out of my car and walk onto the soil with bodies below.
A large, black gate with a screeching Raven signals the land of the free.
Misery is a gift of suffocated cries for help in the shade of afterglow.
I sit beside her grave underneath a willow tree.
Behind the worn out names on graves
I see myself in the reflection of monochrome.
Shattered reality stings and seeps into my airwaves.
I make a seat out of my nightmares and I call it a throne.
Years beat on inside my metal heart.
I measure the time by the number of spiders on her headstone.
No soul to share a glass of wine with those who depart,
Only skeletons in my closet that hide my secrets in their bones.
A child’s word is shielded from all evils,
A child’s world exists in the realms of a lucid dream--
Full of innocence, laughter, and smiles.
The only evils exist in nightmares,
Where materialistic objects provide illusions of safety--
Like a child holding a plush teddy bear,
Like the soft glow of a night-light dimly illuminating the room--
But when the birthday candles are blown out, year after year,
The child’s world turns into a dark paradise,
Full of wickedness--
Like a series of nightmares turned into reality,
Only safety remains within the depths of their dreams.
Inside a worn out barn,
Headlights looked at me.
The curved hood of the car
Dad laughed when I told him
How the car liked having me around.
Dad turned the keys and
The engine cried out in joy
While my brothers and I raced
To be the first ones inside.
The back seat,
The stickiness of warm leather
In the sweet summertime.
Our puppy, Lucky,
Sat on top of our laps.
Lucky, well, he tasted
Freedom instead of dog treats.
The smell of his breath made my nose
But then I would giggle as Lucky kissed me on my face.
An open road.
And a yellow VW beetle.
And a couple of kids and their dad.
Exist in underwater
Skeletal friends dream of
Silver & Gold.