Carbonated Addicts

I've done everything I should. Still incomplete. I wonder will another come to try to save me. Arrant demigods wearing crowns plated in gold. The songs in constant turmoil providing the stability I need.

As they go. As they leave.

Just another season.

Over.

Snowmen defaulted to the sun. No funeral for deaths expected. No tears for dying ghosts. In their satin skins so shimmering with lies I'll never know. Bullets in the chamber sweating their targets.

There's just no way for us to be ourselves again. And so we waste. For the vacant stare that allow truth to intercept what we've always known.

The tennis ball on the roof. The frisbee on the patio. The grass that quietly forgets where we've run.

Time is a cold elevator. The floors observe. I don't have a patent on pain. I feel yours as well.

Sell me your copyright fib by fib. Until every hurt is published. I can't escape, but I can say those mountains exaggerate.

They're only as tall as we imagine. We're only ourvlesves. Everyone else comes after.

I always wonder how people wear makeup at a funeral.

And now I know.

I won't wake up from this.

He chased the cola to heaven until the cap came off. There we debated, but never decided how it should end.

I guess I was wrong about you. Wrong about myself.

I thought I knew her.

Her stealth bomber tragedy. Her vocabulary stunted by words she'd never never imagined she'd have to know.

Everything I never wanted to be I was. Because it seemed then the only way to ever be loved.

At least now I know.