i summon the mail gods

so cold. there is an empty man in the truck threatening to tear through the window in the front of my house and his head is made out of cloth but his shoulders are metal through and through. somewhere there are mountains missing me like i escaped their womb and they sing to me in my sleep sometimes but i try to pretend not to hear them otherwise i might get up in the middle of the night and walk my way down to that cowboy country and you'll all wonder where the hell i went. so i cover my ears with my pillow and i try to hummmmmm try to bury everything under try and make believe that liberty street is an endless hill of towering possibilities. "well i can dish it out but i just can't take it".