Everytime I see a dead dog,
guts spread out on the fucking side of the road,
it makes me want to crash my plastic car
right into the grassy median
through
window.
careless
flailing
we are
but you won't say it
it wakes me from my dream.
My dreams.
Pretty locks
flip flop from blonde to black, to black, to blonde.
Rest in peace
the people that I see
The people I meet when I'm dreaming
the songs I sing when I'm sleeping wide awake.
I want
to draw
connection
between you two.
careless
flailing
we are.
but you won't say it
because it'd probably
wake me from my dreams.

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