Sleeping in the Sea

In the eight o clock flush of night, I walk in silence up the steps to my porch, and just watch the cars go by, and the weather is warm and the feeling is good. It's ephemeral though; it's waiting for a downer, waiting for me to hear words I don't want to hear. There's a softer glow to night, before it gets too late. You can still see clouds mixed with stars, and there are screams mixed in with the swirls of smoke from the neighbors' deck. The screams are everything we don't want them to be. They're so loud sometimes, it's a wonder the baby doesn't wake up. I don't know whose baby.

I feel like taking a shovel, and digging this huge hole, right in front of my steps, right in front of Rt. 4, and digging and digging; then I would cry so hard, that it would fill it, and I'd swim around all night long in my bathing suit right in front of the passing cars and I'd have everyone swim in my tears, and when they left the pond, they'd take some with them - but their towels would dry it off, and soon enough, no more tears. But no more pool, also.

It's a beautiful paradox, how close we all are to happiness, and how scared we are to reach it, because who really knows what happens when we're happy. I mean really happy, not "I'm happy because dinner was good" or "I'm happy because I went shopping" or even "I'm happy because I'm in..." well, they don't say that word, do they, so I guess we should just share it with ourselves. Happiness should never be just a moment, because then it becomes something like a drug, and people suffer withdrawals from happiness. They shake and shiver in a cold sweat during the night, and come close to saying goodbyes. Grand finales of life.
Happiness is like a sea of love.

I like the way people honk while they drive by, like they actually know me, or someone who lives with me; because they don't, or else they'd pull in the driveway and say a proper hello. But then again, I don't know what a proper hello is, or a proper goodbye. In my world, people are sweet until they just shut off. They just shut off. and that's exactly when I decided to shut down.

I walked hand in hand with apathy up the steps, and up until I opened the door and stepped inside - I walked down into my room, shut my door, sat in my chair, turned up the music, and made that pool that I always wanted to, only there are no towels, to keep things dry. So I'm thinking of buying a float, so that I can rest on top of it all for a good few hours. You know, really mull it all over, really think about my own happiness, and all the things I've sacrificed for it,

and all of the people I wished would stop shutting off.

There are so many things I've been meaning to say,

I've tried before, and your head's been turned,

Nowadays I just go to slee