Waking up angry at nothing but the lack
of dreams and something to look forward to.
This place is always new because it has to be
in order to survive, shadows move past
my window on their way down from the second floor
to heavy doors on dying cars that sound like
animals in pain when they are brought to life
with every morning movement in between
our different worlds.
No one watches the road when they drive,
but they are busy skipping songs
that they have heard too many times
to just enjoy. On the walk inside
they all think of a person they held hands with
at a small town carnival where the rides
were loud and breaking, but were packed
with stupid kids and endless lines.
Nostalgia is a heroine that cannot be
taken out of the equation and the dosage
keeps on climbing to new heights
so high you cannot see the street lights.
They all believe in every rumored monster
because when they run out of things
to be afraid of the moon looks like it vibrates
with the stars. Nothing like this can last forever
every lie is just a knot around a reason that gets
looser over time, and it is our turn to decide
where we are going. Give up on all their hidden
doors and look for what you lost in all the rubble
of a world that will not look like how it looked
when you were younger and you thought
that you were free.