death toll

sunk into myself. my head is empty because i fell into myself, lost my footing and slipped. hollowness and thoughts bouncing off the walls. sometimes i just let go, when no one is around, when it just isnt worth being so damn conscious all the time. some idle pitchy tinny song echoes between my ears, like headphones, playing somewhere in the space between them. tonight just isnt worth it. just threw up a little, in my throat. cant quite bring myself to the surface. dont quite want to.

sixty thousand people and the toll is rising. it is a death toll because people paid with their lives. just some random geological event, predetermined, god knew it when we were all conceived. not so random. digging graves by hand. rising every second. just like the waters. the toll paid in blood. but as for me, somewhere between - under - it doesnt hit home. this isnt here, this isnt my life. i drove over ice to the bowling alley today, nobody died. no death toll. elliott smith and some random tune bouncing through my head. dead. one. unless i change the channel, nobody dies. if i look out the window late at night, lazily and tired from my bed, from my pillow, in a ball under five sheets i can see the outside. the cold, dead, space between my window and the snow. angry air, ghosts. the snow-dipped earth reflects orange back at me. glows, artificial luminescence from some light pole off in the right wing. halfway up the cul-de-sac the light gives way, a thin black line and darkness giving way to a dull, perfect, natural blue glow. magical chemicals in the white snow glow blue in the moonlight, artificial luminescence from some moon off in the sky.

then i roll over

i cant remember the last time i told anyone i loved them