Life on the edge,
feel the high but watch it bleed,
wind in the hair its the only way,
deal the cards see them burn,
burning rubber under a waning moon,
reapers breath on their necks,
see them in a neon haze,
their adrenal souls set a blaze,
taken in the blink of an eye,
two more stars in our night sky.

7am again, but in my room it's still night
light won't come inside
though the sun already shines
in the highest skies
in the highest skies.

Cold again, laying in my bed
I miss your warmth
I miss your hand
I call you and in the quiet air,
I feel your absence in my veins
killing me again
killing me again.

I need you to teach me
how to see the light
shining upon the sea
I need you to tell me
how am I supposed to breathe
when you're not here.

I look around to find your shadow
in every corner of my world
I see only emptiness
a desert for my inner flowers.
Oh, tell me,
where have you gone
where have you gone?

Alone I'm wandering again
these streets of despair
dead people walking around me
and I know, oh, I know
without your air
I'll soon be one of them.

*I need you to teach me
how to see the light
shining upon the sea
I need you to tell me
how am I supposed to breathe
when you're not here

i feel like the walking dead
rotten thoughts calling often
no stopping the stalking dread
crossing over from my coffin

bury me deeper

just a corpse, looking back
maggots feasting on the placid
no stopping the pulling black
passing over from my casket

Restless yearning brings glass tears
To eyes blinded by regret

You begged for my heart
So I gave it to share
But you snatched it away
And left me bare

I asked for it back
Or else I would die
But you didn’t care
You just said goodbye
BOEMS BY JA 505

I am thinking of the dead
who are still with us
on their way in the rain
to meet lovers or brothers
and my sadness waves back
like grain in the fields
of lost summers and summers
before that, fireflies in the dark
still young and beautiful
like starry nights, but for them
there is no moon, and for us
the same news we do not receive.

Her body is a plantation
I worked on for twelve years,
all of them solid, deep
summer, uncleared timber,
backwater, ditch and slough,
times of bad cotton, dark
nights and no crops, hard rain,
riding shotgun over my love.