Speakers blaring cold to the white noise.
You've seen it in your foresight.
Twisted metal harnessed her midsection like a crown
Poking through her ribcage like a sad lover, dwelling.
Candle flame licks the walls,
The tubes in your throat bare witness to the protest in your head.
And your hands fasten the seatbeat and tell you to close your eyes and count to ten.
Preacher man begs for forgiveness, for his father may never know his secrets.
Wishful fists bang against empty walls, hoping for the plug in your eyes to come loose...
And let out that slippery soul you once taped to your chest like a miracle.
Oh yes, I've done it all and there is no way to retrace my steps.
She's gleaming heartless in the bounty of sheets and sex.
And it just keeps rolling down the hallway.
Bodies filled caskets.. Caskets filling hollow ground. Hollow ground filling the void in your mind.
And over and over.
I cannot retrace my steps.
I cannot fall up and back into the window.
I'd lure her away from the skyline
and into the bed to comfort her headless thoughts.
But no.
She saw the sky floating above her.
She reached up and touched heaven one last time.
The car embraced her like a silent kiss.
And when we saw her finally asleep we smiled in delight.
Evelyn McHale 1924-1947
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