Hush

It's one of those things that no one warns you about: how cold it gets when the window shade is a damp towell hugging chipped paint with duct tape and cigarette ash.

Through a mask of hazelnut and hope, you walk like a zombie to the yellow brick N-train surrounded by people who share your boxed wine dreams.

(wake up, please)

Your best friends cost ten dollars and die between your fingers while you feed the murderer with complacent lighter fluid and mediocrity. Trade your secure top bunk for a pillow top with a phone bill and credit card debt. Ain't the internet grand?

(please, please wake up)

How many bookcases do you need? How many socks? How many flat tires to fix when the bike shop doesn't open. Walk across the bridge just to find out the cheerleader has run off with the asshole beneath the laughing cow suit? Really?

(oh god oh god, please help me wake up)

Shhhh. Hush now. It's just the highway you hear. But it runs all time and it's soooo loud! It's just a dream, Jimmy, go back to sleep. It's not a dream, I saw him, he was driving his car too close - I saw him!! Shhhh. Hush.