It was dark and it was
cold and I was lost and
I was scared. I was
tired, I fell asleep.
Simply being
awake tires me so.

I was lost,I didn’t
decide on it, not consciously
at least.I woke up lost
in a dark town with strangers
looking at me funny as if
I was unwelcome beneath the
street lights, it was their
property, and they knew
I was a missing boy soon to be
found dead, or at the very
least and best, dying. I stood
alone beside a leaky pipe
from which across blue fields
of tall grass danced
with their own shadows
as if it was a celebration
to mock me, swaying like hands
bidding me to go, go away;
I do not belong here, they
were saying.

The moon was too beautiful
to remember but I remember
all of this though somewhat
vaguely, and one thing that
lives in memory is fear. I called
you and asked for help, I was
alone, lost and afraid. I was
tired and I was scared and all
you told me was to go find
a place to sleep in, with
the danger, with the fear.

I was about to run out of cigarettes when you came.

You’re too tired.
I am too.
We both are.

But we’re never tired enough

until one day
we are.
but there’ll never be
a day
when you and me or everything
we think, see, hear, say
or do is.

Maybe all the gold
I got you is buried
underneath all the
rubble from the trouble
I have caused.

I think by now
you’re regretting
me like I do. I regret
everything, you too.