I’m out here on this baron road,
No time to grieve and no place to go.
A sharp obsession lies behind my sinking depression.
Burned out dreams and broken hearts,
Diseased drivers driving deadly cars to lonesome death high above the wondrous sky,
Nothing left in this lonely world worth dying for,
And nothing left in this isolated society worth living for.
This ancient cross dangles around my demented neck,
Half a pack of camels lies at my feet surrounded by a world of empty red bull cans.
Wasted youth fast approaching an inevitable deadly demise.
50 to 60. 60 to 70. 70 to 80. 80 to 90. 90 to 100.
Fast breaking 110.
All alone on this highway of lost, lingering, sultry souls.
Anarchy and atheism.
Nihilism and pessimism.
Life and death.
Things that my teenage mind will never be able to comprehend.
I have an obsession with insanity; Obsanity I like to call it.
A ghost is hiding in my rear view mirror with it’s yellow teeth and venomous eyes.
My faith is gone and my God is lost,
It was crucified on the cross
Next to Jesus Christ and all who watched.
I taste my salty teenage tears as I look around at the world I used to love,
A forgotten photograph of infatuation blows out my window and I fail to care
It hits the desert sand and I sharply remember all those romantic bear traps I was dodging,
For over 365 days,
Until I finally shut off the occupied lights and watched them turn vacant,
As the door slammed shut in her face.
My life is a carnival of fragrant memories,
A freak show filled with contractions,
It’s heavily regulated,
Much like a corporate rock star’s heart monitor in the E.R.
I press the cold cigarette on my chapped lips,
The smoke races to the heart of my lungs
And fills them up like a fetus would take over a woman’s uterus.
The 10 to the 605. The 605 to the 405. Off ramps in my side mirrors.
Yellow lines, green signs and angel filled skies.
On the run to escape my constant teenage daydreams.
Bashing my head against the window pane.
The pain that lies on my clean cut, bloody hands.
Tattered jeans, empty coffee mugs and an ash tray teetering over.
Is it the angels that fill the sky tonight,
Or is it the newly wed adolescent schoolgirl I’m dying to feast my eyes upon again.
I’m nervous and scared,
But I’m ready and unafraid,
That’s what courage is.
I’ve left my pity yet I’m not alone as a mystic abstract light
Overcomes my dark teenage tunnel built out of hate and turmoil.
I suddenly wish I was anybody but me.
Anywhere but here.
Out of here and independent like a shotgun under a bloody blanket.
Thurston Moore screaming through the speakers on my left and on my right.
I drive down the parkways
And park in the driveway.
I take a long exhaled breathe as I step outside my sanctuary.
I’m home.
The last place that I belong.