the song.

I want to exist in a song. Not one with a quiet melody, not one with exquisite lyrics. My existence will be in a song with a beat. A heavy rap song, a pop song falling off the lips of an over-eager teenager.

Let me be a song tonight.

I always yearn for the brief moments when I am able to go speeding in my little white car. Alone. I always turn the music up so that it surrounds me. So that with each beat of the song, my steering wheel reverberates against my knees.

It consumes me. The music. The nothingness of it all.