You are a thought terrorist.
I can't go on a walk
lay in my own bed
or have a conversation
without you there.
You have hijacked my eyelids
you linger in my mind
-its maddening!
Maybe with these words
I can cut you from my head
and trap you in paper.
You can not become
my background music or
the rhythm of my soul
-its MINE!
Yet still, I think of you.
Why do I do this to myself?
If you are the terrorist, I hope
I am not the plane going down.

This is the morning
No this
this is the morning
Where etherized upon a table I will finally sit up and be seen.
No, this is the morning.

Together milling loudly across park(ing lot)s
This! This is the morning!
Perhaps you've seen me undressed, perhaps you've seen me *******.
This is Morse Code these are hieroglyphs these are fingerprints on a frozen window pane. Meaning(fully equipped with the right place for a time) nothing to lose without first finding X.

This is the morning where to stay at home to garden and crow, hooked on the missing airplane lost in spices and exotic tea.