Vermont - Cursive

Staring up at stars

From the back seat of a stationwagon

Carving the night

Trees keep marching by

Light poles blur into a stream

Blazing laser beams

All…

These…

Stars…

My thoughts are trivial pursuits

My heart’s a bomb that’s been defused

What now?

There’s no more use for me

I’m wasting energy

Muscles are weaklings

Thoughts just defeat me

Numbness is effortless

I could get used to this

Driving through Vermont

Overwhelmed by the insignificance

My conscience was my crutch

For a heightened existence

This other wordliness

These…

Schoolboy…

Lies…

I’ve been deprived reality

Brought up by holy ghosts and saints

What now?

I’m the delinquent here

I’m the contagious one

This heart is hopeless

I feel the numbness

All Hail The Atheist

I could get used to this

I could get used to this

I could get used to this

I could get used to this