I'm sitting here listening
To your voice on the machine
Begging and pleading
this all be a dream
She wrapped her arms
around your heart
Tortured and pulled
Til the beating stopped
Now I sit here asking
Will I follow you soon?
Who's next in line?
Can I meet you on the moon?
I'll meet you on the moon, darling
I'll meet you in the stars
I'll meet you on the moon darling
To pull the needle from your arms
I'm sitting here Nikki
Numbing my own pain
Up the nose, there it goes Nikki
We are one in the same
She wrapped that tie
Around your arms
Tighter and tighter
Leaving only her scars
That minute
That hour
Of pure delight
It stopped your breathing
It stopped your fight
Now I'm sitting here Listening
to your voice on the machine
Knowing full well
It's not a bad dream
I sit here and wonder
Will I join you soon?
Can I meet you Nikki?
Can I meet you on the moon?
I'll meet you on the moon, darling
I'll meet you in the stars
I'll meet you on the moon sweetie
To pull that needle from your arms.

How many times do I have to feel like this? Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? It's been 15 years and I'm an hour away from the house you died in. I still see your corpse with perfect clarity when that tragic moment decides to replay in my mind. I remember holding your lifeless hand crying so hard I couldn't breath. I remember the paramedics forcefully removing my hand from yours as I screamed so loud I couldn't speak for days. I remember as my brother and I clung to each other like a vice regardless of how much we hated each other. I remember crawling under my bed and refusing to eat or do anything for days. I still can remember the feeling of your cold hand. I just wish I could remember you without that moment playing in my head. Because instead of remembering your beautiful smile and boundless love, I am haunted by your lifeless eyes and your cold unresponding hand. Time doesn't heal ****. It just makes it harder to remember the love you made me feel, the confidence you instilled in me, and the lessons I learned from you. I love you and I miss you beyond what words are capable of communicating.

Some people are strange.
Some people are stranger.
Some people are strangers.
I'm a strange man,
With strange tastes.
A stranger in a strange place.
I'm a strange man,
With a strange face,
A stranger with a strange pace.
You are just as strange.
You are a stranger seemingly strange to the strange strangers strangely thinking you're strange. And strangely this stranger finds that strangely strange.

Safety man Dan.
The vanguard of your eyes and ears.
Where danger abounds Dan stands vigilant.
Reinforced impact resistant plastic to shield you from shards.
What a most assuring assurance he makes with his role in prevention of loss.  Either theft or injury Dan holds his gilded pen aloft. His iron clad armor of cloth rustling with his march.  Safety unto his subjects and Kingdom.

An auspicious Australian awaits a antique apperature. Alive and awestruck he answers an abnormal anomaly.  The apperature abscesses an automaton and away an albatross    alights to an aviary awakening an awesome antihero. The aura of amazing allegory alleviates any alarm. As the Australian is an abhorred analytical analogy.

A collection of collections collecting collections of crust. Cantily crying a cacophonous cry of cautious cackling. A cabretta covered caitiff crones a candorous call. Can a collection consist of collections crust covered collections and all?