I can't perceive a single shadow that can call itself a man,
when all they see that's made of gold appears to me as grains of sand.

I am heavy
         heavy
         heavy
         with fear that you'll find someone
         who can love you better than I can

My God.
What have I done?
What have I done?

stuck in a hollow room,
handfuls of pictures of
years, now simple past,
rain still bound, fallen,
the quietness of absence,
the eclipse of
your dissolute smile;

one day,
years ago,
I must have woken up,
and forgotten to stay in love,

or just realized,
I never really was.

Seismographs,
thimbles,
songs that won't be played again...
I can't go go back to your house anymore.

I wasn't prepared for your
kind of love. It made my
hands burn and my teeth
throb and my chest could
never fill all the way with
your smell- like cigarettes
and toothpaste and old
spice- and sometimes I
think I can feel you but
I'm always
      always
      always wrong and it's
never you. And I think
maybe that's okay.

Six feet and thunder
where I'm under the bolt and the surface
finding refuge in a hollow hole knowing not home
Six feet under yet alive and death of me wonder
how it could miss me?
thereby chance would frisk me
find me worthy and whisk me
away to not-a-north unearthly

Cascading in the bright holographic shadows of the horizon
Learning about this fairytale
Y fair tale or furry tail
Will it ever end? Will I go back to my hole?
Playing chequers with moths
using rocks for marbles, shooting away to pipelines
the rock finding its way to tunnels
I play relay but I'm still here
The rock is gone, it the only thing I can enliven,
the closest I can get to freedom - for now.

It's dark, I'm all alone
weakened, betrayed
ask me I will tell you all about despair
so far away is cheer and merriment...
Winter comes and it will pass
its the coldest time of the year
I cannot wait for Spring so the flowers can grow and give me hope
I'm here in my tomb, begging, crying, pleading:
somebody hear me, somebody set me free
this cannot be all I can be

Would mystery fool one to take a shovel and dig me out? Would it? Can it?

Six feet under, buried by the thunder
carried by the moments of impact
where the world hits and the winds clap
Wondering if I will ever shine again
even suicide would do me no justice,
you could hand me a rope and I couldn't hang myself upside down
and my fellow skeletal inmates wonder why my heart doth frown
Sand we once were, now as dust we linger
Waiting for the next wave
hoping for sunshine, if not then heat waves.