I spend my lifetimes chasing the unfathomable
Resonance of nostalgia and melancholy that blends
Into my grandmother's bed, a storage box, a picture
Frame by frame they jumble together sepia toned like
Toys, music, buildings, the time you fell onto concrete
Walks to the schoolyard away from music box cradle songs
Your mother would sing to you before you slept
Wondering about the world, the unknown, the darkness
Overcoming you into the lulled unconscious playground
Spurring up the pain, the reminder, the tug from the beyond
The realm of describable, was it ever even here?

I think its time
I want to feel the homely sting
To lie under artificial waterfalls
and let my head drown in the noise
and still feel my own silence
and punish myself for the things they say
because its true
and its time I face it

no, NEVER AGAIN
you promised...

in that stillness moment i, questioning
why people stare through (and stare within, staring through)
that fuzz or mush like their covered window panes (staring within, staring through)
that shy window pane that turns

eeyoyvrbd   e r o e b y v y d   e  e  y  y  o  d  b  r  v

so that i (staring in, staring at) may roam in

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turning my mind to that fuzz and static, becoming fogged window pane
to look out (and stare) like rain droplets caressing
so rough they fall to pound that pavement
pavement so coarse and electric like the peppered mountain range
where i stand
my shoes fill like leaking boats
to roam, to wander, in that desolate diorite range (staring within)
questioning (staring through) as time joining
disappearing
as headache turns everybody to everything turns

eybd   oryoy        ebordyoev  ydeb       dbeyodebe           dyobyobye
ebdoybeod       ebdoeboy debot     vverbdyodv   verdbey    odbver  vebsrobe      ybddoeb