Hypothetically Speaking

The sky was filled with bitter icicles dripping down in all of their sadness. Rain drops like tears from the cold black sky absolving me of all my sins. Autos trolley by on guard rails and medians. Their cryptic howls tell me that I am not alone, but we are not the same in the night. I’ve been funneled down into this skin. This was the shape given to me at birth. Overhauls and undertones can not change my mind. Yet the touch of other humans still move us on. Still, there’s no where else I can go. My eyes roll away from me but they never venture down the road. I merely take my cautious steps through manhood as time sees itself fit. I, too have rails, but they only guide me down stairs. The yellow lines keep us straight in the dark. Yet, I never kept a secret from the tender winds guiding me along. Traffic fades away, but the howls still deafen, backing me into the timeless nil. Its tin reflections cannot hide the dark. I peel back layers of silver, unsure of what I seek. Soon, it’s gone. Nothing but the dark remains.