EITHER THE MOOD RING IS THE DRIVER OR THE WHEEL

either the mood ring is the driver
or the wheel

it emits/admits
a nothing/everything brown

equates to silence

as we know i'm so well versed
whole life a craned neck study
in what uttered arrow holds back

no colors becoming, so far
but illness makes a map

routes I've always let someone else drive
while my miles grow piles

though this year might be the year
they fall  

bravery blooms, disappears 
a debated snow storm 
we're inside of 

clutching, i'm driving too
not even backseat but in addition
to the driver

who might be a mood ring

driving without the power of feeling
hot behind the wheel,

I’m in the wheelless drivers union
alert sans make or model

tool-less but tuning in
so hard

static breaks
mood ring settles
dense to cool blue

can't trust such predetermined hue
rich as spilt blue drink
on Love's linoleum

warming up radio
stuck between endings

last thought sacrificed to
melody old as oil change

rude, that cliches are clutch
but not now 

no space in this vessel for them
to stretch

mood ring might be faulty
no warranty

can’t let it tell you
what you already know

can't swap febreze
for coolant 

though this might be the year
i try