There is a hand in the air.
Even this seems distant.
For the need to trace it to its origin arrives.
And even though.
The limb is your own.
The fact that this surprise.
Doesn't raise alarm.
Isn't surprising.
For not even the cold in the air has come to greet its guest.
To even grasp the concept.
One finds alternate ways to stimulate the so called sensors.
Yet what is found.
Only seems to bring more nothingness.
Questions and answers alike.
Because there can be neither.
If there isn't anyone to present them.    
Having to deal with two minds is company enough.
Sooner or later.
Perspective takes hold.
And the relativity of problems and solutions become one.
Sadly there isn't much else to be done.
When the answer is there.
But its contents.
Are what began this venture.
Give me strength.
Or give me freedom.
Free me from this icy prison so that..
I may wake in the dream.
At least there the picture remains.

Silence the whimpers.
There is nothing to mourn.
Some can still remember what the empty lot held 0nce.
Colors and excitement clashed with such vigor.
Someone should have caught how quickly it would go up in smoke.
Like a leaf in the Sahara.
Smothered and withered.
Every time one would pick up the remains.
More would fall away.
As if the attempt at repair only invited more distance.
Arguing is useless.
For there are new toys on the playing field.
Some that trample down others while playing the only card received.
The haze over the land has become thick with regret.
And even though the pain sparks from every corner of the wasteland.
Not a single flower has bloomed
Just years of weeds and insecticides to populate the once beautiful surroundings.
Now the barren plain whispers as if there were ears to listen.
More or less to be validated.
It's sad to see ships leave the harbor withouts sails.
And weird to think back with such wide smiles.
When the only expression left.
Is a sigh.

There's something nostalgic about
The smell of
Cigarettes in the rain.

I am reminded of
Nights bleeding over into
The morning
Inhaling whiskey
                        and
Exhaling nicotine

Bonfires on the beach
Only...
I've wandered away from
The fire
My feet sinking deeper
Into dark, cold sand
The cool water only slightly
Tickling my toes

I think of
Waking up
In unknown houses
Unknown apartments
Unknown beds
                        With
Unknown people
Trying to recount
What just transpired.

I recollect
Faces that have
Come and gone
Dancing
                        and
Laughing
About what?

I couldn't tell you.

In the midst of it all
I feel
An emptiness
A hole
Pain and
Also nothing.

I feel nothing.

Yet still
Years later
A 3 AM hotel concierge
Reeking of cigarettes in the rain
Can bring it all back

Whiskey
                        Bonfires
Cold feet
                        Blurred friends(?)
Laughing                        and
                        Hopelessness.

Course smoke in a downpour
Nicotine in the mist
How could I ever miss a feeling like this?