Monday, December 27, 2004

as the sun goes down

the car is running, it's fitful exhaust visible through the dining room window. it looks like cold breath, panting and chattering as i begin the slow trudge toward home. the sun is out now, orange for the short time before it dissapears, mocking me with its orange glow on the windows, the brief pools of weightless color on the crusted snow. it will be gone soon, and i will be in the car, driving away again from the demons which find me here, my mostly unworn clothes back in the bag only to be packed there again when i return in a few days time. what do i come here hoping to find? and what am i running away from when i leave? when will what i do be enough, be all, instead of camouflage for not waiting?


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