she was not fragile like a snowflake.
she was fragile like a bomb.
and i didn't know which was scarier-
                                                        ­  her explosion or her calm.

Today I'm the former roadside attraction
Rusting , paint peeling , rat inhabited pig
sty of a man
A birdhouse with halls that echo , waiting -
for the 'horns of Jericho'
Tall , out of control growth blotting out -
my reflection
Wrinkled , weathered cracked infrastructure ,
shaken , sold cheap , melting into the earth -
forgotten , once prospering station* ..

All we do is nothing,







but love
and runaway.