It all comes and goes in waves Everything looks the same The cornfields, the cows, the flies, the coughing The musky air that fills our rows and permeates Even through the ash-infested vents from the fires Eating away at barks of trees like this moment Eating away at the last dose of happiness lingering on the dust of our bones
The other night, wrapped in crispy motel sheets I clenched my body and pretended I was an embryo in my mother's womb It was the only source of warmth and comfort that could sing me to sleep
But now, I see the sheep out the window, on green pastures I hope they have water I sometimes imagine myself being reincarnated as one And jumping over these low wired fences to freedom I wonder how far I could make it without a human catching me Taming me, bringing me back to their living painting A life to look at as they wash the dishes Smeared with my mother's milk that they stole from me
It's raining, finally And the van is slowly drifting into the other lane Eddie is driving Everyone else is asleep, sometimes coming up for air Their heads poking up like groundhogs before sinking back into their holes
But it's not all dark and grim There are moments of hope They come to me when it's quiet They come to me when everyone is synced in their levels of happy Which doesn't happen so often But when it does, it's nice
I wonder if we'll look back and think that these miles of cornfields These anguished breaths, these forced smiles these moments when we're gone The momentary calms And the thousands of little bugs pressed against our windshield Were all worth it
I don't know exactly where I'm supposed to be It's a hollow thought that takes control of me