iron nukkas

[zoniha]

the first day of summer, at dawn,
we threw our things in the back of my car, and left.


and every day was filled with new adventures;
every time you closed your eyes,
every time you turned around, endless possibilities were born.
we drove past so many little worlds, on our way to everywhere.
laughing at the faceless specters of contentment,
laughing because we are alive
and theyre just living, making their way
from day to day, from nine to five.
we laughed because we already had everything we needed.
the sun, the sky, each other, gasoline.

but something happened
you, or me, or the engine,
gave in.

and theyve got us burning in the filaments of all those tiny lights
earning back everything we used to own
fishing our freedom out of a sink in the kitchen of some nameless diner
there are lines cutting our lives into little boxes
and i'm going to bed to tired to think about anything
except how i'm too tired to think about anything.

in every face, every house, every dirty plate,
i see a new adventure:
a potential customer, a possible job,
another chance to make some cash
so i can hold my head above water,
hold onto the the threads of the web i'm in.

i cant see past the horizon anymore
i cant even see past the end of my street.
all i can see is their faces
and the backs of my hands.