Be The Helium That Keeps My Head In The Clouds.

Smile while its still legal.

It was Sunday for once. The windows were down and the sun is nearly there. 3 blocks and 2 joints ago I promised myself I'd have the last laugh, now I only worry about getting home. I'm not even worrying about 3 days from now, a day unlived that I'll always remember.

And I'm sure youd enjoy a reasonable plot, with rising and falling action and a group of witty characters you cant help but fall in love with. But I'm way too high for that, too high to tell you that three stop lights from now the cars will collide, and crash, along with everything inside it.

You know, I used to be ashamed of being a walking trainwreck. But no matter what Thomas "thinks he can" do, he will never be able to walk. And even if trains could walk, that would just be fascinating, and last time I checked that wasnt such a bad thing to be.

And now the yellow lines on the road are all blending together, and the sun is almost completely gone. "Stoop." What an intersting road sign. I guess I'm too high to read, too. So high, I swear I can see angry muffins dancing in the clouds.

You know, I used to wonder why the sky was blue. But then I started wondering why my hair was blonde and my eyes were green and my skin was white. So I just decided to stop worrying about things I'll never be able to change.

Cause really, I cant change much these days.

Theres a stoplight. The car should be slowing down now, but, well, its not. And neither am I. Though my brain is slow my heart is fast, keeping the song on beat. If the song misses a beat so will I. Miss is a talented word. Can mean three things at once.

I miss the old days, when battles were fought with spears and swords. When warriors were still called warriors, and their strength depended on how strong and fast they were, and not how fast they could pull a trigger , throw a grenade, or get their college paid for.

I also miss the old days when George used to come back around. He would come back with tears in the corners of his lies and burn marks on his fingertips left by girls he tried to replace me with. And yeah, I know he needs help, but I've got my grass to mow and I'm trying this new thing where I dont waste my time.

Cause I really dont have time to waste anymore, ive got metal to crunch and heads to split.

I'm chillin at stoplight numero dos, one more to go.

 

So heres a conclusion for you:

Maybe its the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was going to abandon him like I was. Or maybe its the way the gravel felt so nice against my bare knees as I fled out the passenger door.

Or maybe its the way his stupid green pickup truck didnt stand a chance against a huge a*s semi.

 

But now I'm convinced, life sucks worse than being savagely butt raped by an evil monkey named Carlos with a knife dick.

But usually only when you date cheating a******s like George.

Author's Note

This deserves a kickass title. But I cant think of one atm.

Reviews

[Last Lying Look]

This is a really amazing poem. I love it. Real edgy.

[Hedra Helix]

Ohhhhh...! Im like in love with you right now, geeez. I agree with all past reviews, damn, and gimme more you f*****g brilliant girl. Serious yo.

(tell me this is fiction! pleeeze)

[Zatoichi]

title suggestions:

George on my mind
Stoop, in the name of love- song title reference, many may be too young to get it
When warriors were still called warriors
Stoop

He would come back with tears in the corners of his lies- great line

[Zatoichi]

Hi Chloe-

while reading this for the fifth time i felt as if i were riding shotgun thru the neighborhood that is a moment in your life. i like the way you think.
suggestion- lose the last word -it- on line 6. small matter but the word serves no purpose and conflicts grammatically with the subject -cars-. them would be grammatically correct but either word is unnecessary.

i think it would read more powerfully if you drop the last paragraph.

that first sentence made sense when it was in my head. i hope you get what i mean. and thanks for the ride. Z

[No]

god, i love metaphors and wordplay,
i really truly do.

and i say amen,
because i know exactly what you're talking about about when you write this.
and i love the way you just spit it all out with no hesiatation,
and let the words form themselves into something on the page,
because they do.
i guess getting stoned can do that to you though, haha.

it really makes you think, and read things back over
just to make sure you've got everything.
and i like work that i have to think about, because poetry is supposed to be thought-provoking, and not just a bunch of mindless garbage thrown alphabetically on a page.

i like this a lot, but i especially like "where have i been"
that i read but didn't comment on.
because i'm a lazy a*s.


nice kickass title by the way.