We've all burnt things
haven't we?
bridges,
cakes,
hands
our feet on the sands
where time always seemed to
stand still.

I have to put down,
set down, get down
these lines
before I forget,

Later,
I shall wonder why.

The roots don’t grow from the trees
They have no
Roots
And we
Are
Saying what we will make them be
But even the words don't matter
Its always tossed
                                              up in the      wind
We watch it float up higher until its
Gone

Paid actors on a stage
Animals rampaging both directions
Different colored animals
And the sound of a songbird can’t last long
Inside such anger

And I can’t free myself
Inside such pain

It’s in these moments
Of complete and utter isolation
Where we feel as though we don’t even know who we are
Where we begin to truly understand ourselves for the first time