That which would not follow you into the night
Will not be there in the morning
That which will not be there in the morning
Will be hard to find in the afternoon
And when you’re searching before the sun goes down
You’ll stumble on a log
You’ll trip and fall into a marshy wetland
And you’ll be wet
You’ll be consumed by nature
Taken into her heart
Ripped into shreds
You’ll miss her, but she won’t even think of you
You’re a part of her in the same way that her breath is
Each time she expels you
You return to her
So why should she worry?
You’re in her hands now
And she can squeeze you if she wants to
When you hold your breath
Where does it lead?
Where are your feet taking you?

And we see when we were younger lying in the grass below
The hills were high and we were under the heavens which glowed
I saw the clouds white and silver passing above our heads
I looked you in the eyes and you stuttered where do we go next
We took a step holding hands
You released mine, I looked away
You embarrassed me in front of my friends, I still remember it today
You chased me crying through the ally
I laughed at you aloud, I’m sorry that it ever came to that
I wasn’t ever proud of how I treated you that night
But I asked you for forgiveness, we made up and we kissed
You gave me birthday presents
I think it’s funny how it goes, how life fades away
Those times were o so long ago, but I think of them today
And I see that you’ve made friends, you’ve moved on
I shouldn’t even think of you
It’s pathetic really that I’m talking to the ghost inside my head
Those days were sunny, my car was warm
We rolled down the windows, still we sweat
I lifted hair off of your cheek, I kissed you
It was tender it was sweet, my fingers were inside of you
I grabbed your bosoms I held them, I licked each ******
And I pressed myself against you
Can you forget these days the way I do?
Can you forget these days and yet have them inside of you?

They say once you crawl you’ll walk
You won’t stop moving forward
But if you sprain your wrists enough
You’ll soon learn to hold back
And doubt yourself and bite your nails
And sweat when others stare
You soon forget the ground you’re on
Because it wasn’t ever there
You shave your head you pluck your brow
You dance with eyes toward floor
Searching for the place you stood
A mere five years before
Swimming toward the light, this
Fishbowl’s water’s stale
Growing anxious in the night
As your skin slowly grows pale
But the moon hides the sun in the night
So you’re exactly wrong you see
Each moment in time passes us by
If only we would watch
And listen

Dying to come here from the opposite direction
Moving away from this place
They pushed their possessions in covered small wagons
With hands chafed and dry
No one ever thought they’d make it
When they started dying here
No one ever though they’d make it
But look they’re there
They have built their sanctuary
They have completed their mission
They’ve gone to the top of the mountain
And realized their vision
So many of them died
So many of them lived
So many born each day
So many

Running down the slopes of life’s valley
Toward demise, weary Autumn
From upon the slopes of Spring
Visible are tulips
Bright, cruel wistful sky
Baking stony gravel pathways
Leading between the fields
In my father’s acres
Becomes Summer
As Winter fades to memory, each blinding moment
Escapes my eyes in fugue
Relinquished
Replaced
By pastel eggs and rebirth
Torrid are the seconds
The minutes that bind us
But as one we struggle for release

Not only he breathes
Millions do, and want to stop
Wishing co2 would fill each lung
Swallowing poison, inhaling fumes
Bringing cords into water
****** relics in piles
Belts cling to ceiling beams
Feelings etched into wrists, blown away and thrown
Before traffic from overpasses
Right now
He chose pills, antibiotics
They tried to pump it out of him
Pressing down his chest
They want to make him one of them
Beep… Beep…
Every limb restrained
September fourth, 9:42
Pronounced alive

Staggering through streets lined by maples
Filled hours prior with revelers
Now mostly barren, save for one man
A sidewalk, and me
Weathered and wearing his shelter
Shoes unmistakably fastened and striding
As his meek voice timidly prattled
I slurred "what the hell are you doing?"
Patting him down before he got in my car
We drove to his church's mission
50 years old
He's from St. Louie, saw his sister a ways back
Dead mother, spectrous father
Six foot 140
Likes it here