#changing lanes

THERE IS NO CURE FOR THE BENS

All that we have shared together,

We still change our lanes,

So as not to cross each other's path,

And see, we still manage to come face to face,

Neither you, nor myself can deny,

This connection, we've managed to make,

Or rather, our hearts have managed to create,

Which is the reason why,

Even with changed lanes,

We somehow come directly across each other.

watching dragons in foaming rain

never did hit the curb of morning

soft stone striker. disorder the mythologies. terse but sentimental-chisel my marked highways to broken blends. all my life i have been taught that bad things happen when we least expect them. the future gives itself capriciously until the sky falls, until the sea scorches. i seek incoming folly like the opium fortune wishes itself upon, like the torches that illuminate dark ways by burning our fringes away. as ancient summoners and monsters are disasters. for as long as i can remember, i have learned to expect them. and so my stories are crumbled up asphalt lanes in beds of steam. headlights that appear as blooming inception, pivoting red kites and bright white ribbons.