I am alone with these thoughts.
And I call them god. As I furiously long
For silence.
Among the frantic quiet.
The pestilence reeks of livid fights
That lend themselves to morning terrors.
I must remember I am only waking to a lightfilled night.
This consoles me to a point.
After which I remember times when---
I found a lord less lane and walked
To find the hungry  taunting.
And the poor throwing all their riches at my feet.
It was worth noting.
the brick houses shattered in the presence of( looking )
Glass streets.