no sleep for those who follow in the paths of the comatose

Sounds outside my window
are cars driving by with their windows down and their music loud and more and more i feel like these are pills of multicolored, multi aural selfinclusive magic
soundbites containing one brief breath of a life as it soars through the night and away from you and dry, slippery fingers.
each car and its split second soundbyte screams another message another note about something and then is lost like the slow words of someone you love breaking up with you in a park. each time they speak it is so slow, the crystalline formation of the words, and then when you finally have one, and think to grasp it long enough you might examine it, already, like a snowflake, the shape is gone and warped, the meaning melting and lost in the stifling air.
a car.
is full of people.
a cluster of layered limbs and woven laughs all crackling and vibrating with their hair flying in the torrents of wind for this car cannot afford air conditioning and its music is tinny and high in impoverished speakers.
nobody in it is old enough to regret.
and they slide through like holding hands on the last day of school before summer, sweaty fingers interlocked so tight and promises whispered back and forth about never letting it go, and always being this close and never feeling anything like this and tumbling, and pulling and skin slipping off skin until it pulls away into the night.
another.
with just two people in the front.
quiet.
and one passenger asleep in the back. no music and no words just a long day full of exhaustion and emotional assault, wounds still stinging in the open air. perhaps the person stretched across the back seat is not even really asleep but in that half prone position of pretending to be so that he can avoid speaking at a time when words would just be too trivial for the events of the day.
and another.
with one person.
music as loud as she can get it. all windows down and thumping her rings and fingers against the roof like a military parade as if to say fuck you night i am small but i can still push you back with these headlights and this screaming sound i make in my throat somewhere behind my ears without even opening my mouth.

they slide.
like beads down a necklace to the next town and the next and the next.
and i lose you all and wish i could ride with you wherever you are going. or never stop.
and just go until we run out of road.