title: burn
date: march 9th, 2021
we are driving down an empty highway. the trees and bushes are blending blurring together, oranges and reds and yellows, spindly fingers reaching up to the flaming skies and sun
the sparks are flying from our wheels and the sun is glinting and glaring at us disappointedly in the rearview mirror. you hold a looking glass over an ant on the dashboard, capturing the glint of sunny disappointment and directing it at the ant. you want to burn it to a crisp, like the child on the sidewalk that plays god every day in the hot sunshine
i am rolling down the windows and the crisp autumn air is blowing its way in, tearing at our hair, and the song from the speakers is tugging at my ears over the wind's rush. "crash and burn...burn the sorrow from your eyes...how are you so burnt when you're barely on fire?"
i like to think about the glowing end of a cigarette i once saw someone in a movie hold, i like to think about all the matches i made burn my fingertips
i like to think about the sun and how it's like a fire that burns on and on somewhere without air, somewhere above our burning lungs and loves
a zircon to rival my diamond, both of us burn, the archer who slaughtered the ram
we pull into a flowering field with power towers, empty of other eyes. you give me a head start and i run over the hills of flaming red and orange flowers, crashing and burning in the grass like you know only i can
oranges and reds and yellows on green stems, fingers reaching around to make a crown and corsage for a fired up heart
date: march 9th, 2021
we are driving down an empty highway. the trees and bushes are blending blurring together, oranges and reds and yellows, spindly fingers reaching up to the flaming skies and sun
the sparks are flying from our wheels and the sun is glinting and glaring at us disappointedly in the rearview mirror. you hold a looking glass over an ant on the dashboard, capturing the glint of sunny disappointment and directing it at the ant. you want to burn it to a crisp, like the child on the sidewalk that plays god every day in the hot sunshine
i am rolling down the windows and the crisp autumn air is blowing its way in, tearing at our hair, and the song from the speakers is tugging at my ears over the wind's rush. "crash and burn...burn the sorrow from your eyes...how are you so burnt when you're barely on fire?"
i like to think about the glowing end of a cigarette i once saw someone in a movie hold, i like to think about all the matches i made burn my fingertips
i like to think about the sun and how it's like a fire that burns on and on somewhere without air, somewhere above our burning lungs and loves
a zircon to rival my diamond, both of us burn, the archer who slaughtered the ram
we pull into a flowering field with power towers, empty of other eyes. you give me a head start and i run over the hills of flaming red and orange flowers, crashing and burning in the grass like you know only i can
oranges and reds and yellows on green stems, fingers reaching around to make a crown and corsage for a fired up heart
