Knowing you was releasing the skeletons in my closet,
Every laugh that we exchanged were unscripted;
Right by your side, my feet laid comfortably beneath the passenger seat,
Busy streets, nobody knew what we did under the busy lights
Your face in front of mine, your tattoos i could still remember what they exactly looked like.

I have an angel
the little girl said
in a voice that quietly screamed
her loneliness
I could not respond then
because I did not hear
then
and continued walking
past her
in the dark hour I listened to all those voices
I could not hear
then
some ominous, some disjointed
and some just
sad
I have an angel

I have gone back to look for her
look for some sign as to where she rest
in this graveyard of lonely souls

i don’t think
i should grieve
over the ghosts
that lurked through
my whereabouts
when i used to
pass by their graves,
with names carved
soullessly,
coward,
born in july,
cancer vibes,
screaming impermanence
because
they should remain
as what they were,
the ghosts that
drifted without a might
like how august
slipped away
into a moment in time.

the old truck
I'm guessing from the 60's
now being devoured by trees
at the edge of this farm
melting into the hundreds of acres
a remnant
I took the back roads this time
on my latest sanity saving trip
to the Outer Banks
Where I'll pick through the
fragmented shells
looking for the few that made
the journey in one piece
like the scavenged souls we meet
I took some pictures where the
lighthouse peeks over the dunes
and spotted something in photo
after photo
an orb appears in each
and changes position with
every click of the camera
perhaps a soul
victim of a ship gone down
from one century or another
stepped out from his grave
the Atlantic
to enjoy a stroll along the beach