labeled laundry

erased every thought. the mile markers disappeared and the machine left the road. everything thought is built upon the better sense of sacred. automatic pilot.  at night or in the beginning, i always forget what the weight of the world pressed my mind to mend. spaced the substantial and just know the definite. the feeling of that emotion on my face as soon as we leave. austin city limits. when i asked for middle, that meant something. maybe caught but regardless.  the music is up but never nearly enough. filtered and independent, as the world churns. sun burnt and mildly drunk on that wine. so sunday so sunday, you're done and gone. just another day closer to next weekend.