quiet

Our tiny world was wrapped in a cocoon of night and smog. She was driving and I was watching the road. Big trees leaned over the road, tired and heavy with humidity and there was music playing, some distant sound of dreams tinging together like champagne glasses. My brain was heavy like the car and night and smog and trees and dreams, inside my head a rainstorm tried to drown out all my senses-- weeping clouds and shiny jewel raindrops, I was so drenched in thought. I was planning, drawing, writing, screaming. I always feel this way when it gets quiet.