I feel sticky, stuck between edges, torn between pieces. I feel erased, partially there, in between. the no and nothings. silent, open, barren, blank, i am canvass being painted with white paint.
I feel as I hard as I try, I am not running fast enough forward. I am not getting anywhere, the car has it's hazards, and I am on the side of the road, walking without a desire with out an destination.

I can't make a decision, nothing is pleasing, nothing is that distressing, nothing is going, moving or taking place.

the weeds just sway in the trees-

It's hot and dry outside, like a midland desert on a cool day- a slight breeze hits the dying embers of the oaks. color's fade back into brown, death falls, as rain has been barren for days. plants shrivel, decompose back into the angry earth.
we have polluted her seas, forests, arms, legs, breasts and body, and we continue to do nothing about it. She coughs and gags on our emissions, struggling to breath. she starts to wheeze.

afternoons are slow in my little ant world, i watch the clock slowly tick on by, today i wish i was far away from this world.