wasteland

we were just outside of flagstaff, when the drugs began to take hold. there's nothing more adventuresome than a heart that beats past its capability; than to wonder if the coming moments would hold wild halucinations and raw perspective or an absence of pulse. these were the scary days worth living. and devon, laying helplessly against the tattered cadillac interior, ached solely for a girl that would stir in him utter confusion. the desert wind donated its sweet sediment to our hair, our eyes captive to the neons until we hit asphalt. the sidewalks crawled with drunkards, with sterile smiles and greasy flashbulbs. "who brought us to this human circus?" devon cried out from beneath his crouched cap. he lit up a red whos smoke kept company with acid-induced rambles and uncited quotes, all the while i held tight to my wheel and what faith i had salvaged. the tires were tired, they drug us sluggishly further into sin, the city of. The glitzyhotels and showgirl silhouettes caught every one of my glances; my head slung heavily downwards then shook itself steady as chemicals swam through the vital crimson liquid that my heart kept in rythmic circulation. our aged swagger took us not so steadily into the city, where a fever lay on our skin, inviting its own way. i heard levers pulled and pulled again, keeping pace with anxious hearts while risks were taken and dignity was lost. devon was not far behind, the lights beaming off his cheek, his eyes in unruly wonderment. his manic sway led him through a sea of empty faces; his britches low and eyes keen. devon suffocated in a world of static while longing for a pretty pocket book.

*ardent*