The waiter
The girl from yesterday came into my café
I served her slowly on my waiter's flat feet
She had coffee and a bun gave me ten pence
In tips ,she read a paper, smoked a cigarette
Then left without saying good-bye
And that was it let yesterday sleep waking
Up the past serves no one

I went to war last night;
Psychadelic relics proved that I was pathetic
I come with peace today;
Without a doubt, broke out, going free on my new route

can't breathe
body burning
chest on fire
heart in flames
no oxygen
no breathing
no sounds
no speaking
nothing but
a heart barely beating
burning hot
burning cold
then just cold
stone cold
numb
frozen
suffocating
not from lack of air
from lack of love
lack of life
lack of will to live
lack of happiness
a puzzle in which
i do not fit
suffocating
but not by pillow
not by blanket
not by choice
the things i cannot control
are the things
that are slowly killing me
suffocating me
no one to help me
no one to stop me
no one to save me
no one
just me

pulled into the circle of light
a mirrored sea holding the sky
where the geese gather to sing
hiding along a secret shore
poets can be found, wandering.