How is everyone doing?

Sorry for neglecting the site so much in the past 3-4 months or so; I haven't had any inspiration for poetry, and my personal life has been extremely busy, with my first semester at college. It seems that the more I learn here, the less I have to say. I think I'd be pretty happy with a menial labor job, getting paid something decent, and just going home at night to do what I really like to do. I don't know how I feel about life right now. Seems I'm just living in a redundant society, at this point. Anyways, just wanted to give y'all a heads-up so that you didn't think I killed myself or anything. Happy holidays-- I'll check in when I'm freer and have a bit of inspiration to write about.

Riding in a white truck down the rural Maryland route by the winding creek, and the late summer smell of grass bluntly makes its way into my head through the open crank-windows.

The sun sets behind us and the colors swirl abreast of us, and the finally-cool wind glances my sun-kissed skin. Hot for months, relief shows a tiny signal without the July storms thrashing down upon us, and it is the tease of a great autumn to come, the autumn I wait all year for. Like a child on Christmas eve, I cannot wait,

and I won't have to wait for much longer.

A dream that depicted the vomiting of sea-bones and muscle and tissue and blood, blood hallucinated in every direction but not there like the bones; and the violence of an abstract human perversion of excretion.

This all, with the underlying emotions too surreal for even the darkest corners of Pandora's box, in a sinner's urban paradise on the beach under a somehow hazy, pitch-black sky that makes you feel as if your arm would d-i-s-a-p-p-e-a-r if you dared to plunge it upwards past your skull.

This is the hell I dreamt,

the hell I fear,

and the hell I pray to never exist

for the sake of my innocence.