Once
upon a time
a little girl had a dream
that she was fading
losing
falling
and she hated it
and grew to have a
hatred
for ghosts
just like you
just like you
just like a star
something
quick
here and gone
in a flash
of purple light
and red fog
something to remember
but never to speak of
to hunt my ghosts
to hunt them down
and drown them
in smoke and white walls
something to hunt
nothing human
the deepest parts
buried beneath
a thousand
falling
shoes
and a basketball jersey
something hated
like someone I used to know
and then
with another flash
a streak across the sky
and the flick
of a lighter
like silver dripped on a wet page
like ghosts
in the mist
of a sad park
          with a sad man
                      and a very sad girl
because they have ghosts
haunting their heads
with a whisper
and a forgotten tear.

I want to sail away from here
Into a mist
so thick
and so fragrant
I could swear
I could touch it
and it would be solid
in an island
in the middle of the Atlantic
in a bathtub
nothing too big, dear
I swear, just one more hit, go back to bed
something as solid
something new
something real
I need something real
to touch
to hold
something
someone
I swear, I'm losing it
I thought I woke up
from this nightmare of human existence
what kind of a God
could possibly hurt me like this
I want to sail away from here
in a little boat
somewhere far away
somewhere that doesn't matter
I swear I'm losing it
there can't be anything good in here
No, there can't I'm so lost
there can't be
this can't work right
why can't I talk?
No, I need something
to right
I need something to matter to me
I need an island
something solitary
I just need
a fog
let me have my fog

Silence weighs heavy
As it dances across my soul
Doing graceful pirouettes
As the darkness encroaches
Muted sounds of yesterday
Echo softly in the distance
Until naught but reverberations
Linger in faded memory
Like laughter that never was

An endless track,
Meandering predicatively,
305 times around,
Yet never knowing what lies beyond this
Grizzled track.

Shivering,
My gray spirit presses on,
305 steps taken
Through this impenetrable fog,
Many more to go.

This bight winds on,
This way and that,
305 turns.
The speckles of this devious path
Cloud the search for meaning.

Only a breath,
Only a moment,
305 days.
Run away from the end,
Clear the path for me.

The fog is sweet. It envelopes my being, and it calms my nerves. Its obscurity awakens my senses. Always on my toes, I am alert. This mist, it refreshes my soul. Once more, I am young in search of danger. The fog, it draws me in. I cannot fight it and I won’t. It beckons my name, and it knows who I am. The shroud opens. I enter it, the fog. It swallows me whole. I will never return. For in this abyss, I feel alive. I crave life and life craves me.

there is something beautiful about a memory
that reaches from the pit of your stomach
latches onto your heart
and pulls it under your lungs
placing you in a moment
that once saturated the marrow of your bones

when you close your eyes you can
feel, see, and be just as it was
with carrots, a park bench, the night sky,
a bottle of spanish wine
and his arms cradling you against
the chilling wind

it takes you so deeply into
the inscription he carelessly carved
across the back of your eyes that
when you open them again and exhale
you find it fogging the midsummer air
releasing the very breaths you took
by his side