i realized that i haven't just been poetry lately. i've been posting traditional poems, plays, and prose poetry. in keeping with the idea of switching it up, i'm sharing an old prose piece that i had written a long time ago. go figure, it's about the same problems i'm dealing with now. what's wrong with this picture? let me know what you think.

"in cold love"

the truth. will set. you free. the truth will set you free. the truth—? the truth will—what? free? free? oh! free! breathe. free. free, like black ice on a snow calmed street. like the white light where two cars meet. light! green. yellow. then red. then white. and sleet. lots, and lots, of ominous sleet. it was an hour ago when I wanted to leave. and the truth, I hear, the truth will set you free. but if I floor the motherfucker, truth won't catch up to me. and I still said "I love you." hope I make it home in pieces. unadulterated reason. adultery in season: the dead. of. winter. keyword, dead. like a shotgun to the head—but to the streets, my love! to the streets instead. your lips: the needle, his skin: the thread. a stick shift away from a cold blooded spread. in. cold. blood: this, this is love. and jesus, I love you, like apologetic regret. and that's just what you said. the liquor still on your breath: "the truth—will set—me free." you were already crying. you were looking at me. makeup running as fast as my feet. remember my face, dear. this is the last that you'll see. and jesus, I'll still love you, when I'm thrown from my seat. head through the windshield. heart down the street. and the truth. will set. you free. you said: "the truth will set you free." the truth—? the truth will—what? free? free? oh! free! breathe. free. free, like black ice on a snow calmed street.