R - ya 'n?

wind and rain and slush that evaporates from the crumbling black tar as cars race across it, over and over and over...lights: red, yellow, green, green, green...into my blue eyes, into my weak, hyperventilating mind.sometimes they brush across a dim room and land on brown-haired sunlight with a white smile. She wears a small dress and makes beautiful music that streams like a river out of her arms and fingers, in the light coming through the window where we all hide in a group, thousands of miles from our past and the masses, for now, anything is possible, at that point it was, by the grand piano, drowning out all worries that come, as unpredicted as a plague. Then, we stand face into the screaming wind as it bites our flesh on cold nights in the dark and hollow lonely hills. Out of my reach, a log cabin and its glow, where the present she hoped for is turning into the past she smiles at, as the future is fed into the machine that grays her hair and wrinkles her soft skin. The ground constantly tugs at our ankles. I stand on ice and do all I can to stay firm on my two feet, but my legs are weak and the blows are strong and sooner or later the moon won't expose the light hiding deep in my glassy eyes. It was somebody elses job to make her happy and to drive to an office to raise her children and pick up the phone so that millions of fiber optic coils could carry her dreams to his ear, coils not connected to my conscience. I'm cut off, in between millions of trees that bury my screams in the dark bark being torn away by centuries of mankind pushing forward, leaving the weak and heavy-hearted behind. I am an electron flying in circles around the mass, at some point I will lose focus and fly off track into my fate and onther will replace me without a blink or glitch in this system of sunrises and solemness. I am on a large track, no one at my competition but the sweet sound of empty gravel echoing through row after row of empty seats with blue chipping paint and peanut shells, remnants of spectators who swarmed to watch previous performers whose hearts were not empty like an hour glass with no sand. Yet, it is repeatedly turned over...and over...as if, just maybe granules will begin to fall through the system if life is continuously forced into it.They all hold hands happily and dance in circles around me, screaming, or crying, or laughing, I do not know because of the unbalance..silence in my brain, and unbearable fury without.When the window is down, her brown hair flies, uncontrollably against the back of the seat, which holds her like I should, as it creates its own light, while dancing in the spotlight of a brighter light, while her eyes create the brightest light of all, which vacuums up the world into her soul and causes everyone to try to escape from the empty expanse left behind...only one can do this...and a dying trail of color follows close behind her as she walks, yet we all remain prisoners to the clear, in the nothing, trying to inhale whatever crumbs of color we can capture.I knew from the beginning, as I watched from above, the green and blue puzzle floating in the stars. It got closer and closer until I fell upon the concrete, so many miles from home, one drop of water sliding down the cheek of a little body, incapable of expressing itself...freshly robbed of the white and the angels. I knew then, that my gem, held on a leather strap around my neck, which would weather and likewise, fall to the ground...I would look down upon it and see my life fly before me, and the brown eyes would blink, never to open again. We are all dissolving in our tears. Or maybe, in the clouds and the years. I edited my profile with Thomas' Myspace Editor V4.4