who really reads?

the rain, it bites. nibbles at my goosebumps. bees, a swarm, landing, no crashing, down with stingers sharp BUT NOOO, it's just the raindrops. it's a cold and lonely drive, blinded by the blurry brakes of red flashes and the occasional yelp from a smart car. for yes, they're smart because they're small.

it's 3 here. my eyes are so upset, they've already canceled their RSVP for the morning. the firey cracks streak over the white, a splintering mirror...slowly and surely crashing.

one day soon i will be a year older. a kid lesser. and i really kind of hate that.

for now i will disappear into the dreams, where i so pathetically belong. goodnight! and let's hope, tomorrow is a day that i will take. and be like robin williams. and some other dead poets.

cya cya.