Fainting Goat

Brazil, the year forgotten. The sun is rising. 

The ocean longs for her beloved moon but she has already gone down. The sun has taken her place and the water finds no comfort in him.

I jump in my friend's car.

It's filled basically to the brim.

The area is small and compact.

How did she fit this many people in her tiny car?

i don't feel good

i think i'm hungry

'you feel fine'

says the almost mute voice in the back of my head

'this is normal'

i guess it is

i don't feel good

i think i'm fat

When my hair begins to grey, I will rejoice.

My crow’s feet will race farther than my aging joints could ever take me.

They will run down my cheek and jaw to meet my laugh lines, 

I will kneel on broken glass as 

my blood stains the pearly sheen so that 

you will see I've resorted to my last option: begging 

before you (as a woman should be) to rip 

I've heard that hope is a Vicious thing 

It claws its way up from the soil of Contempt and Despair 

It brings with it the Memories of a past life and the Longing for a future