Comment ça va?

Sometimes life feels like the movie Groundhog Day. Every day it's the same, every interaction is a mirror of days prior. It wont change until something big happens, until automatons stop showing up for work, cops stop sending people to jail, and politicos stop taking bribes. Until then, nothing is going to change, it will always be Groundhog Day, waiting for a furry over grown rat to tell us if it sees it's shadow or not, with a blizzard just outside of our door keeping us at bay. For now, I think I'll just work on myself, so when the day does move on, I'll do something so different that you wont have a choice but to say hello.

Sweet Lovely...

It's all so abnormal
the way we go through life
in our air conditioned vehicles
with our cellophane sex
barely talking to each other
like we were a million miles
apart, yet our skin touches
and our stink commingles.

I tried to love once or twice
it fell on my lap
much the way it usually does
and every time it managed to
be squandered by the corrosion
of time and space
triangles often do that.

Antiseptic dreams
clean and coordinated
like the dance of a dying race
we beat the drums of war
love and sadness
to the rhythmic procession
of hearts left behind to spoil.

Can you imagine
for just one second
what life would be like
if we all just said fuck it
and started to talk
and walk
and listen to one another
towards one another
and made the strides
to make a difference in our own
and each others lives?

I can't
I've been locked in too long
kept inside my wrapper
I know not freedom
I feel little but the air
as it rustles against my plastic prison
the medicine numbs everything else
and my mind plagues me with one thought
over and over and over and over again

When will I feel that soft caress?