08.08.03 - 7:19 PM
I walk down the street.
Hookers and pushers and hookers and pushers and lines carved out into mirrors, tabs dissolving on tongues I don't want to be fucked out of my mind I just want to heighten everything.
There is a dull pain in my throat like motion sickness but I'm still running, I'm still running, I'm still walking away riding away moving, moving, moving away.
I'm choking and my head is light, I have no balance and all I can do is smile as though the movement itself will add weight to my sides, evening out the way I move, keeping me on my toes.
What?
I'm sorry.
Are we okay?
Are we gone?
It's when you forget to breathe walking down the street, the rain sounds like bullets pounding against mob cars and downtown is a jail, streets corriders between cells and cars transportation because we're never going to get out, it's in one cell out one cell there's no lock, there's no key because there's no way out and we're all born trapped.
Yes, that's right, my sentences are paragraphs long I don't have to cut off, this is the way they flow I don't need to breathe, I don't need to end my train of thought because I'm not a cow on the mother fucking tracks, I'm the catcher I'm the metal grill I pave the way.
I don't stop, I don't stop, I don't stop I am not a roadblock because baby, I don't. Stop.
RED LIGHT.
