The Waves are Crashing

The traffic sounded like the sea, always moving,

                                                                                 never changing.

The sun's rays grew intense, burning the skin,

                                                                                 engraving it.

The smoke lingered out the window, cigarette between two, 


The music seeped from the radio, bleeding a tune, 


The trash iced the floorboards, making miserable designs,


The engine wheezed, 


The brakes skipped a beat, 







                                                                                the sea.


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