A head poked out the
window, and onto the night.
Music trailed behind the
car, distorted by the
wind and the darkness.
Her hair tangles with
the sky. She was happy.
-----
Light hitting, shining on the subject.
Through the lens, it considers where
beauty really is.
Is it on the Senior or on her surroundings?
-----
ball your first when I try to slip through you,
smear me over when I lash out,
be the lighthouse to my mistakes.
Then starve me, hollow me mout,
only leaving room for you.
then when you're ready,
let me leak through your fingers.
A gooey puddle.
-----
The air is heavy
with the regret of a
a thousand people.
and the night black beacon on the dreams
and were snuffed of their innocence.
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