The Accident Artist

Deep melting debris washes from down the roads we know.

From coast to coast the violin bows, rasps, and flows our pain on heart strings so worn out the timing shows.

Today is the day that my life has changed in the same way.

I've waited so long for something more.

Spice of life bottled in a jar on the shelf out of touch, and mind expired in the sands of time.

I spend the night together with the familiar ghosts that haunt these TV screens, like Uncles in turtle necks from the family album circa 93.

Ashes spray across the album, leaves cover the ground, cinnamon flavoring the night time air.

As I wait for something more, nyquil laced sonnets carve out the wonder in this under developed diorama beating one step too early.

Phone rings out as the ears reverberate from days left off the hook.

The car tipped over in the front yard burns as the debris melts deep, flames over flow, and as we gasp for some fresh air.