unbelievably
I am without

I don't know how
it came to this
but it usually does

years passed
like fallen forests
and burnt toast
and leftovers of a meal
made for
those who are hungry

empty tin cans
can't hold sorrow
like a crow can

caw like there's no 'morrow
cry because
people hold hollows
in the places where
we should be woven together
but we were never

ashes and sawdust
remain like revenant
cockroaches
creeping into the ceiling
seeing us as we sleep
as we dream

tell yourself it's all
adream
adrift in what may seem
serene--but instead
it's dead
like carrion in spring
a terrible thing
what rot

rust covers every
once shiny wish
we made upon hinges
hoped the floors
would weather the storm
but they don't
"the wood ain't true"

and it's like nothing is right with my world