My dreams lay dead there
And I am thinking how and why

But I had done it with my hands
Punched the back of my throat
And vomited them
Into a sink of my basement
Into a sieve more stubborn than I
Squeezing off and leaving tea leaves
A very lifetime supply
They are so bitter
I almost hear death

Their funeral was supposedly invisible
Still an audience managed to crash

It was quoted as an honor
To dump away that 'futile trash', I hear
Rain, rue rusting their bad iron
But the rain fell so hard it hurt
And the rue, ate their soul out of root
The fine steel of my brain, I hear
Would fill the hands and banks
And houses with minted papers
Incapable to fill the hole in me
Which is not even necessary, I hear

And I look straight ahead
With nothing, nothing in my eyes

Few whisper, it is an insult
And loads of shame to let it go
I know, I know, I very much know
I am ashamed so much, shame is me
The car of my dreams I drove
The car with my hopes my fuel
My stations were unknown
Hit hard by me into a catastrophic mess
Tyres I ****** with my own teeth  
Lights I kicked, lit the fuel on fire
Wheel I crushed, frustrated and unclear

I am stared at, in such a symmetry
I am expected to speak, I don't

My eyes see and taste everyday
Taking in neutral honors, whispers
Taking in that stinging tea juice
Chewing on and on that rusty iron
Scratching and bleeding on my trodden car
I wake in the dawn to their death
I climb a cliff in the sourness of regret
So absently, I turn back
I feel a light in their cemetery
Telling me it is still all worth it
How long can I trust their ghosts ?

PK