untitled, its longer than my usual short stuff Options

[racoons > you]

bored
alone
when the trees
talk to me
rapping morse code on the window pain
an SOS
from the world
out in the
cold
rain
and the wheat
sings to me
snapping like a whip
crack-clack
from the world
in the wind
driving on
down the road
keeping up
trotting on
sanred
by the vines
tripping me
spralling on the
ground
jaded
thrist slated
still drinking
for the sake
of going on
why look back
to the room
where my heart
left beating on the bed
smiles and bleeds
painless now
anathesised
its pointells
to worry
to cry
i let it out
forever and a day ago
im past it
why hate
when you cant change it