Current mood:	crushed
Current music:	Counting Crows - A Long December

...And The Door Closed.
in the last seven days,
news media outlets have been in a frenzy.
scientists have been going grey and bald,
the phones are blinking and no one can hold the ground.

in the last seven days,
the world slowed down.
the rotation stalled and centrifugal force failed:
we all popped off
like little champagne corks
celebrating our disasters.

in the last seven days,
somehow, one of us stayed down-
an increase in mass that made no sense.
the grip got tighter and crushing,
taking the wings off a butterfly
that later turned out to be a pest.

in the last seven days,
one of us turned off,
one of us stayed silent,
one of us worried and worried
until the wrinkles stayed permanent
and youth disappeared.

in the last seven days,
we aged like tortoises.

in the last seven days
one of our windows stayed lit up
while the other lightbulbs exploded,
and in that window, we waited,
hands against the cracked glass,
heavy breath that fogged our view,
for everyone to come back down.
___________

"jane says:
I've never been in love
I don't know what it is
Only knows if someone wants her
I want them if they want me
I only know they want me."

- jane's addiction
___________

back to the old starting line
that's torn up and ruined like a dry pasture,
i return in the cattle call.

here we're waiting for something to race for
after too many false starts.
___________