This Nuclear Summer

The edge of town was stained in gold... so she took flight minus parachutes and airbags, and began chasing pavement. Full of bright eyed stories of Dylan going electric, she wears a raven on her back... and is a constant reminder that this life will always be a matador.

Stayed up late reading into my past... sleeping through the afternoon and missed calls. The dark of night is here to greet me at my window. I wake up and let it in. Tears have been sliding on their own. In and out of somnia.

They say loneliness is something you create and destroy in your own head. So I'm banging mine against these walls just to watch the ideas flow out. Hanging onto last calls and long distance fevers.

Shyness-like chloroform. Everything is slowing down now. The last to leave is the last alive. I watch as they all dance to the sounds of the bombs crashing in the street.