Steam of Consciousness (short story/poem)

trying to get somewhere but theres no where to get
they tell you greed is a sin, and they build empires
what does happiness cost
what number is the cut off, the finish line, when do you get out?
aha, but is there an out?
is there enough?
what you want can never be paid for
it's only an illusion you reach for, dropping coins in a bottomless piggy bank
but go on, the part time job will stop your parents from fighting
the shots will make you more friends, the party wrecked your house, lampshade, skirt, lost sunglasses, ate chips, no, got sick, sunglasses at night? that wasn't my house, I met a girl, she had red hair, she was nice. No we never talked, there were words, words, wordwordword sounds noise white noise, people everywhere, a connection? no i thought maybe there had been magic. what is it called? a spark? theres a fire warning in the area. it's too dry for sparks forest fires are dangerous, i remember going camping as a child, how old was I? sunshine in my eyes, diamond reflections in the water, camp fire sparks, was that me? it can't be i've only been here. when did i last see my parents? i suddenly need to know that i had been at that fire side, when was i last a child? could i handle kids? maybe with rachel, that was her name. red hair. we had a spark right? what did she say? words, we danced, i think, i wish. how can i reach her? my words leave my mouth and float around her eyelashes and she blinks them away, not a letter reaches her heart how can she understand when my words have to travel all that distance down the hem of her shirt to get lost in the stripes on her skirt, she was so beautiful, but she wants more the next diet she'll lose her skin. what was it they want, the glossy images? no, the others, the pressure, they all want to be seen they do it for everyone else, how many pounds before you're happy looking for the gain in the loss, only to see you aren't doing this for you you're doing this for them, short skirts cut off shirts belly buttons twisting hips slim cut high waist double d, c, a, big ass, look at that one, what about her, buy her a drink, the way they talk, fuck her, offer her a drink, you want to fuck her right, no its not, she's more, sparks. she needs to be told that none of them matter. i dont matter. something in her is special and worth being fed she is the spark, she only needs to start the fire in herself. in a way that won't be for them, but what words of mine will reach her, i wasn't there. it wasn't my house, did we even meet? or did my words get lost somewhere among the collaged bodies. if i had froze the moment would your red hair have glowed in the scene as it does in my mind? when will we go back to nature, wake me up please, i swear we had been outside once, in the sun, if we could get out we could hike across the state and settle in a valley you and i camping like i had, with the fire and the stars and canned soup, maybe you don't like canned soup but its not the point, what you want and what i want its that we arent where they want, i swear i could have asked you to join me but all i could think of was canned soup and cold winters, it was winter when my trust was lost and i thought i had it back but i forget sometimes i never found it again and forgot that it was gone, i do that a lot it'll get to me, i realize the heaviness in everything i do and can't find reason to be, and i feel it through and through and when i wake up i forget, assuming the feeling has passed only to be unaware as it sits in my mind lurking in my unconscious and coming out in awkward delayed greetings and broken eye contact, but rachel i swear our eyes met, but the more i think about it the more i forget, my feelings are doomed to be strongest before time and the pull of responsibility makes them irrelevant, how long before you become the dream that wakes me up only to be a blur, the passing stranger that makes me look twice, the face i see behind my eyelids when i blink after hearing someone talk about forest fires, red hair, i swear all i wanted was to hear you speak, it wasnt love i just needed to know you had words too, words to say to me of all people, i wanted to feel your lips form the words and catch them against my face and taste every sound connecting thoughts even for a moment, but it was never going to happen but never is too hard, always too hard, never doesnt mean never. never it a word you tell yourself only to suppress what you know is always. someday it'll stop appearing in every lonely afternoon, but that melancholy feeling on a winter night that you just can't place will always be there,and in the curtains that you close to block out the sun. so there isn't a never for me, i only hope that a word of mine reached you and the some part of your mind will remind you of my face next time the word is spoken, and i will become a face of a random stranger in your dreams. a connection despite the way my words could never reach you, and we'll never be by the fire in the middle of night under the stars. but i could feel it. if only for a second.