bekah (monsoonrain) wrote in writ3rs,

new kid

hullo....can i just ramble-write...i think i shall. i am. "new kid"(bek)this is gonna be sorry...
the symphony of traffic rattles like broken record sandpaper on the sidewalk-we get tangled in the rain.opportunity passe-pushing into us like a silent moment in new york city//every face is an eclipse every face a picasso phase drifting past where your eyes are your nose and your nose is blue. eyes riding the subway, licking my fingers raw. a mess of tangled sock drawer. eyes resemble mosh-pit emotion. your shoes predict you---old souls. cover the hop-scotch distance. sing another lullaby to stir up jukebox memories. lay back down and rockabye.
outside neon lights wraps shroud-like around the streets//the ghosts of long walks-show up as cloud-breathe.things are gonna change so fast. i worry about what will become of autumn. i think to myself id like to become an aquarium. maybe. the color red. i keep asking myself what it is about you and my brain starts roasting the word-"planetarium" i travel miles with. i travel miles with this. a desperate quest for astrological soap. so i can begin and end with once upon a time. may i have this dance?-we could paint out feet carving footsteps in the new construction. in the lack of sky. they’ve given me a free-flood-load down this body down this street given me concrete stretchmarks. i seem to run off where it drips-down deeper. i try to hold my eyes in their sockets-but its getting harder to speak this messy language. i feel so much more like all the roses. then any of you------might be able to imagine. i feel so buried alive, that the slightest sound could open and close me. and sleeping beauty trips away over a key buried in last winter’s snow. next to an patchwork quilt carrying an old man in a cardboard box.oh this air. the very air. that fills the sky that rapes the mind when it feels an inclination. i realize that every story is a love story. every car crash the big bang take one. like you. and you. and you...
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