"trainwreck" poems
Reglossing, rewashing, removing, returning,
she kept using the same cloth to wipe up this mess.
All of the same mistakes constantly repeating,
spools of half-hearted "I'm sorry's" unwinding,
foolproof promise to cover for her missed absence.
I persist reloading, rewinding, replaying
watching the film of our lives together, pausing
at moments where temporarily, I confess,
unpredictable happiness ceased repeating.
This trainwreck of a show carries on, blistering
slides that I want to swipe clean, but her name suppress
stained slates developing, deflecting, destroying.
I throw away the footage, romanticizing
sheer ideas of finally making progress
forgetting her. But relapse results repeating
bad habits. There is not a remedy. I cling
to the seasons of the past, wanting to digress
reminding, rewinding, removing, regretting.
'Til the cloth clears again, chaos keeps repeating.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Well it's a hell of a feeling and a sour deal.
Hangover wreaks havoc apon my gut.
Numb my thoughts to everything i feel.
She's got her reason's I got mine.
Hours between us.
Sunrise please dont find me sobber.
Or leave me busted near that florida state line.
Drinking with the devil satan give me such heck.
My life's a play.
My soul a well thought out trainwreck.
Well big hip gal wont ya warm this bed.
Cause ya know tommorows a gift.
So let's do something to remind tombstone
he isn't yet dead.
Work that back sugar dont think twice.
Little gals may be the norm.
But thoose sticks break so easy and thoose big gals
just feel so nice.
Southern are my ways New York's far from my mind.
Todays a scratch.
So thats why im leaving my wicked past behind.
Smoked and drank tonights pay.
Big gal i love ya.
But as for a drifters soul and me ya know i can never stay.
Found my troubles in mean angry eye's knocked
thoughts apon the deck.
My life's a gamble.
As in the rhymes of a full tome ****** and a
well thought trainwreck.
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 11:16 PM UTC
Dear Diva, heads up
In case you missed this
you came into this world
without a crown upon your head.
To a man who chose drugs above you
to a mother who gave her life
in order to bring you all you desired
without a moment for herself.
Working, schooling, tending to you
years of tears, pain and joy came
but you ****** her dry each day
without fear or remorse.
Greedily you took of me
year after endless year
until God saw fit to bring me another
who would one day reward my sacrifice.
The more I stood at your theatrical door
the more you begged to be a star
while the babe in my arms simply loved me
and returned my grace in full.
As time wore on, your demands broke me down
stole my marriage and home, my life time and again
no one could stand the diva you were
only a mother's love stood as you dealt your horrors.
Giving all I had in blood and pain
you took til I was empty and still wanted more
I had no more to give to you
so you walked far into the distance.
Cradling my babe in my arms
we left the theatre and headed for the forest
a glorious turn of events came true
and life is beyond our dreams.
There is no drama, only success and joy
for my only child is a superstar
the pride I hold for her is immeasurable
and her grace is far greater than yours ever to be.
You are the trainwreck my dear diva
lost and bewildered in a world of your own making
clinging to liars and those who abandoned you
leaving you empty as a child in the night.
But sucker you are for a free pity party
you rushed to their sides when you needed a fix
a bed you have made of thieves and anger
so shall you sleep on your own.
Cry as you may, my shoulder is barren
My knock shall not come at your door
I am done with the show and all its turmoil
a place in peace I now abide.
Pride does come before a fall
and soon you may find yourself again alone
perhaps in the rains of emotional war
you will see what you have done.
Until that fine moment, I am succeeding
I am living without you quite well
my baby has grown to a brilliant young lady
whom everyone loves and adores.
Your pictures no longer hang on my walls
your presence wiped out of my home
traces of you boxed neatly away
your name never spoken aloud.
Your place has been taken, dear diva
the curtain has fallen at last
exit the stage, you and your rage
no longer my child...
... just a memory.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 6:02 AM UTC
The realtor came to me and tried to show me the house.
But from the time he met me, the meeting went south.
I stumbled on the steps, and hurt my bigger toe.
The porch looked like a residence for a male ******
The realtor told me that the first owner did not want to go.
I asked where he was, and the realtor said he’s buried six feet below.
But he made it a haunted house, because he said if I cant have it no one can.
I said that sounds crazy, and then the realtor said you haven’t even met the man.
I stepped inside the house, and immediately wished I did not go past the main deck
Because it did not look like a house, it looked like a bad trainwreck.
I said to the realtor that I was leaving, and he said to check out the upstairs.
But of the nature of the house I was caught completely unawares.
I walked up the steps, and instantly it made me regret my life choices.
I said I wanted to leave and the realtor said that you will offend the voices.
I asked what voices, and the realtor replied I have spoken too much.
I left the house in a hurry, and the realtor yelled that there was no rush.
I got to my home and quickly took a shower to wash away the experience.
Because I never went to a house that had such bad virulence.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
Once upon a time
This was known as "the river of many fish"
We are told this as children
like it's a fairytale
our parents, trying not to laugh
as they tell us of a time
long before their own
when this was the place to be
If you wanted to be somebody
you came to the town with the name you can't pronounce
and you could have your American Dream
Newly free men and women
arrived early and bright at our train station
their sleeves rolled up and heads held high
ready to kickstart their lives.
The gears of industry were turning here
in the land of wine and covered bridges.
Once upon a time
there was a trainwreck here
a lot of people lost their lives
even more lost their way
as time rusted over the wheels of progress
and our water
once so full of hope and prosperity
caught fire and burned for miles in all directions
scorching the water, and suffocating the fish
Today
this is "the river of much pollution"
We have always known it as such
A town were depression is both
a hereditary emotional and economic condition
Where pessimism is our only tradition
The train station no longer operates
The free man's grandchildren's children are up before the birds
trying to find a way to kickstart their high
chasing the American Delusion
"Ashtabula does not have a drug problem"
The police told a friend of mine
as her two year old daughter looked on curiously
at a strung out stranger who wandered into their home
and took their bathroom hostage for two hours
He shook uncontrollably
His eyes overflowing with emptiness
By the time the cops showed up, he was long gone
tossed back into the river
The fish in this water have nothing to lose
If evolution is true, we can sprout legs and lungs
crawl onto dry land and breathe
but the current prevents it here
It's hard to see the glass as half full
when you can't drink the water
I suppose we could drink the wine instead
and stumble inside of a bridge
seeking shelter from the toxic rain
Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 4:10 PM UTC
a broken mug.
a shattered piece of pottery lying in a puddle of three hour old coffee
(black with two sugars, just the way you like it).
that was the last straw for you.
the end of us.
i didn't mean to knock it over.
i was just trying to move my easel,
but in the process the handle got caught and your cup went flying.
against the door frame it hit,
the thundering smash amplified in my horror.
it was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion.
i quickly tried to clean it up,
but as i heard your footsteps going down the stairs i could feel my heart sink.
when you entered the look on your face made me freeze in my tracks.
the twisted rage in your eyes was enough to send me cowering.
apologizing was my only strategy,
wails of "i'm sorry!" rang through the house.
you raised your hand to strike me,
and i waited...
but nothing came.
you stood above me, as powerful as a hurricane, but you did not move.
instead you opened your mouth.
every hurtful thing you could think of came spewing out,
digging up incidents from months ago,
you knew exactly what would tear me to pieces.
i sat there taking it all in,
hoping that you'd let it all out.
but every word that seeped through your teeth was a slash to my heart;
i think i would have rather had the fist.
and then the worst thing you could've said-
"we're over."
just like that you were storming out of the house, grabbing your things.
i was crying and pleading, begging you to stay,
but you were gone.
i watched you get in your car and drive away.
another broken relationship.
you left me crumbled on the ground sobbing, only one thought running through my mind.
"it was just a mug."
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
Paint a stop sign green and GO away,
one way, says some arrow painted on
the floor. You know its only another
rule to break. Then paint this sign
magenta, another cerulean.
Just transform another street into
a Crayola crayon box. Go three times
the speed limit, stupid driver. Get a
ticket. Get a life. Give me your ticket,
but tell me its for the Train. Stomp on
the "T" in train, and stop to kiss me in
the rain. You're a weatherman now--
Flash Flood Alert!! Drown yourself. If
you survive the trainwreck, at least.
I'm still hungry, so I'll eat the "T" in hearT.
Hear me out- and read my lips. Read the
turquoise sign on my lips..oh wait, I ripped
out your eyes. Oops. Too bad you don't
know braille. I'll read it for you- it says
"Dead End, Straight Ahead." You're
STILL alive?? I've got an idea! GO paint
the red light green, run into traffic, and count
1, 2, Splat.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 7:08 PM UTC
this time something feels different
this time i'm an angry toucan spitting eager saliva & i want you to rip my plastic beak off & whisper secrets into my slippery face
this time i'm an open book & i want you to place your fingertips on my soft worn pages & read me between the lines forever
i want you to be a magnifying glass mirror to show me my inconsistencies made of stretched wool fibers and hemp and wood held together by shiny clots of ink oil and glue
this time i'm an open door numb with apprehension & i want you to surge into the threshold of my bare bones like a molecular flash flood burglary polishing my darkest stained corners with spiraling velocity
this time i'm an oak sapling planted in your backyard spinning & dazzling in the sunlight & i want you to water me daily so i can grow
with you to unbelievable heights & suddenly sprout flowers from my sinewy arms
this time i'm a babbling brook cascading over slick brown rocks on a lush hillside & i want you to stir the moon like the wind & listen appreciate my serene grace
because this time i need someone whose lips
can be a tissue to the tears on my soft cheeks
before they turn cold & calloused
i need someone to sink their teeth into my
shoulders & collarbone to wake me
from this superfluous daydream
i need someone who beds naturally
into the ribcage nest of my plaid flannel shirt
i need someone who will dance with me
across an empty landscape into
something bigger & deeper
than just the starless sky above us
i need someone who wants to learn
the overlapping language of my eyes & hands
someone who will lounge with me
like an odalisque on the birth-bed of aphrodite
drenched in the shivers of the moon canopy
someone who can blur the lines
between my cerebrum & theirs
so that we become a stitched together
quilt of soft memories in our imagination
someone who has been in a trainwreck before
& knows precisely where to kiss
to make it all better
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
You've been my crutch for way too long, it's time to let you go
Before you waltz out of my life, I have to let you know
You deserve the best and I'm nothing more than less
I will stay to pick up pieces left by love's mess
Focus on yourself, read a book, do some traveling
Forget about my problems and their oh-so-slow unraveling
My life may fall apart without you in my routine
I can never tell, with just words, how much you mean...
To me, you gave affection I will always be indebted
You love me more than life itself, for this I give you credit
I have held you back with my trainwreck of a lifestyle
Drank sorrows away, but took a raincheck on a wife's smile
The plane takes off in 20, dear, so please be on your way
Never think again of what I think, do, or say
You'll miss a lot about me but you'll never miss the fear
Once your visions of the past and present disappear
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 6:36 PM UTC
You don't touch me anymore.
We lay on your bed and watch MTV,
you right behind me -but you don't touch me anymore.
Two parallel tracks cutting through a familiar road;
once we collided, since then you've stayed on track
-now I'm a trainwreck.
How many times can I cross your path,
how many times can I wait until you pass
before my engine explodes and I scream?
So close, yet so far -why don't you touch me anymore?
The difference between you and I
is after the collision,
you've had passengers,
and I've only had test drives.
I'm trainwrecked.
(NJ2014) (All Rights Reserved)
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
From this barstool i have sat waitting for some moment
of inspiration to come to me.
But the only thing that that comes to me is
a bartender with another drink.
And in empty reflection lost in a jukebox's song
played by a lonley heart shooting pool.
I cant recall where the spark went.
maybe it fell to floor like the ash from a cigarette.
the page waits at home like a wife waitting in worry as her husban is off doing God knows what.
So worried only wishing he'd return.
And when he does the fear fades and the anger kicks in.
The bottle doesnt hold a key but it does know me well.
I kiss it's fiery lips and cant resist it's charm.
so I sit with it passing hours in a dance that will end in
nothing but another wasted night and a bitter morning taken
out apon my mind.
In a swirl of hungover thoughts id leave half written pages.
To soon find themselves collecting with my ever growing arsenal of
drunken rants.
All ending bitter and cold.
But when the whiskey hits I'll make such great plans
that will never be.
I'll write that epic that will keep in the minds
other writers.
And in the warm arms of women who wanna love a
trainwreck just to say they've known what it's like.
Whiskey wishes are like sparks from a much larger fire.
the sparks fly off into the midnight sky.
only to fade befor are very eye.
Dec 3, 2009
Dec 3, 2009 at 6:01 AM UTC
"Everyone's dying, but we're doing it faster."
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
I never knew
That the rays of the sun
Could make someone’s eyes look so green,
Like the leaves on the trees
Or the grass in the spring.
I never knew
That feelings could run so deep,
Cause when you told me you loved me
I didn’t believe.
How could someone like you
Love a trainwreck like me?
And I never knew
That I could lose my mind so quickly
In cliché kisses in the rain
And the safety of your arms
Wrapped around my waist so tightly.
Having faith in things I could not see,
Like the wind in my hair,
Or your breath on my cheek.
I never knew
That I’d meet the type of guy
Who’d call me out on my crap
And bring tears to my eyes,
Who’d be two times as goofy and awkward as I am,
More caring and daring and honest than I am.
I never knew
How to hand over control
How to hand over my heart
And let you seep into my soul.
Now you course through my veins,
Poisoned blood to my brain,
Telling me that together we make up one whole.
I never knew
That the fire could grow
Til the flames swallowed us up
And spit me out all alone,
The edges of my heart
Singed black and left in pieces,
I scream out from the ground as
Passion’s my weakness,
Destroying all that we were
I watched our empire collapse
And I sat on my throne
Holding handfuls of ash.
And I never knew
Quite how to let go
How to take a bow at the end of the show.
How to walk out gracefully
and let you live on your own.
And I never knew
How to rebuild and forgive,
Visions of us in my mind,
To this day I still cringe.
I recover myself
But the scars from the fire
Streak my flesh, gleaming red
Clashing with my attire.
I don’t cling to the past,
Turn my back on me and you,
How such love could destroy,
I never knew.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
No One cares about this trainwreck.
No One wants this trainwreck.
No One loves this trainwreck.
EveryOne says they love me, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says they care about me, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says they want me to stay around, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says to me, "Life is better with you in it, Lucy."
But No One truly means it.
No One Wants Me Alive.
No One Wants Me.
No One Loves Me.
No One Cares About Me.
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 7:51 PM UTC
A figment of fictition
So persistent in perdition
Little distant,
Little hat trick
Lay her down upon my mattress
I spit hot glue
whether or not I ought to
It's never thought through,
never bought new
I never sought another off-tune
Sound
I'm perfectly happy with my own.
And life's an acquired taste (bittersweet trainwreck)
Just like a whiskey flavored sno-cone
So just
Relax.
Take your bags off and lean back
Discheveled chivalry,
Burning bush,
Uttered simile
Muttered quickly
In a sea of young blood and old trees
Just try and make a meek response,
recompose your shattered sconce
Redirect it all deliberately
with my newfound friend tenacity
I report a list of casualties
after a hurricane of history
Recurring dreams are haunting me
Face-to-face with Mephistopheles
Which I ponder in all honesty.
Should I fear the devil within,
even if I don't believe in him
or is it enough
that he believes in me?
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
Today, a total loss,
nothing could’ve been
done to save it.
Today was relegated
to the wierdos,
the lady who wears her
cat on her head,
her daughter’s miniskirt
hovers just below her
naughty bits as I ask
momma my litany.
And, I’m an all-American
red-blood, to be sure.
I would look, I would,
but that poor kiddo’s
got a face like a trainwreck,
so none of it looks worth
looking at, if you ask me.
I’m just trying to get out
the door of the cat-hatted
lady and her daughter,
the clockstopper.
Getting back to the office,
putting some desk-time in,
I call the war vet with the PTSD
so deep that it’s in his DNA.
His voice, so quiet
the rage underneath
is audible.
Cradling the phone,
I fret for just a bit,
wondering if his meds
are doing their duty,
and pondering the next
visit to his address.
***
©2015 P&ZPublications;
-JBClaywell
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
i'm a trainwreck, baby
so crash into me
we'll leave our baggage here
under the debris
take my hand and don't look back
the fire burns bright, now
we'll never have to question
when
who
or how
just us in this space
before our lips finally meet
our legs intertwining
retaining body heat
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 11:47 PM UTC
I have been yearning for true love
For years and years
For decades and decades
I have seen it in movies
I have read it in books
But to experience it in real life
Is a different feeling altogether
Of course, when you have lived
For as long as thirty two years
It is utterly impossible
Not to fall in love
At least once, or maybe even twice
And I am not even counting crushes
They are as ephemeral
As the life of a mayfly is
The love bug has bitten me twice
However, on both occasions
The love has been more lop-sided
Than the recent Men's Ashes
On the first occasion
I was slower than a snail
By the time I finally confessed my feelings
The girl was already engaged
On the second occasion
It was an arranged marriage
After two initial meetings
Followed by two months
Full of frequent phone calls
We had a rather simple engagement
Since then, it was apparent
That the going was smooth
Even if it was a long-distance relationship
However, just before the wedding
The pandemic chose to strike
The marriage had to be postponed
By five frigging months
Consequently, things were never the same again
Mind you, I was very much in love
But, as I mentioned earlier
It was a long-distance relationship
And I could sense
That slowly, but surely
The girl was beginning to fade away
And the marriage, when it eventually happened
Was an absolute trainwreck
Now, a year and a half later
I am single again
And the quest for true love continues
This time, I hope and pray
That when I do fall in love again
It will be duly reciprocated
And will be as long-lasting
As the love
That my family has for me
Jan 26, 2022
Jan 26, 2022 at 12:50 PM UTC
My rock bottom is an endless abyss
A trainwreck that keeps going,
And deals with the hits
I'm a tiger, I'm a bull
A titanium doll
**** heart,
Leather, chains and all
Don't bother
It goes in one little ear,
Slinks out the other
Another drink goes down,
Disappears like the others
But I love my boys
My girls, my time
The same boy, the bumpy ride
They cry, I shine
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
I live in a society that mocks mental illness,
and with a mother that sugarcoats depression.
You're just tired,
she says as I try to overdose on Vitamin D
and my younger brother's pain pills
to be the good enough child
that she always thought she had.
But that's all I'm putting in my mouth,
I swear.
I keep the door to the pantry shut,
and I've learned to do the same with my lips,
even though that thing beneath my rib cage
that the cat scratched up too much
is fighting for a chance
to let my true feelings out.
Her parental guidance is a catalyst
to everything I told the therapist
who sits behind a desk
behind my eyes.
You're too young to love.
You're too fat to be anorexic.
You're too happy to be depressed.
No.
I am a girl,
in love with a man
that ***** every ounce of daydreams
from my body without touching a fingertip.
He leaves venom in my skin
that I mistake for affection,
and he leaves me wanting more;
wanting him to swallow me
like the New York City street rat
that no one even wants to look at,
because maybe then
I'd be able to bring him some satisfaction.
But I do not add nutrition,
I am not needed in his life.
I ask what time dinner is
because I haven't eaten breakfast,
or lunch.
I ask if I can have some more,
but I tell myself no
before the question lifts off my tongue
because I know my mother well.
I know that size 6 is average,
but who cares about a number like that
when I'm a healthy 20 pounds overweight?
I preach body positivity like a religion
tattooed into my bloodstream,
but even I don't understand the blasphemy.
And isn't it ironic
how the girl in love with the snake
is a hypocrite herself?
A hypocrite who puts on a mask
of Covergirl 110,
and blush in Feeling Pretty,
and black liner,
as if she were enhancing the trainwreck she created.
But sadness can't be cured
by the snap of my fingers,
by the pink gloss on my lips,
by the red dress in size 2,
by the galactic twinkle in his eyes,
or the parallel universes created by his smile.
So I'm sorry mom,
that it's not enough,
that I'm not enough
for you.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 6:28 PM UTC
we can't speak now without arguing
because we are both too stubborn,
too self-righteous,
and too smart to back down from each other.
together we are a trainwreck.
we don't work,
we are polar and dangerous.
we **** each other off
and it isn't even malicious.
it's just our wiring, our too-similar similarities
and our too-wide differences.
it hurts
and it's certainly worse than the alternative.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 2:16 AM UTC
Thursdays are for psychoanalyzing love letters I never sent you.
**** you for being in love with someone else.
**** me for waiting on you.
Also, **** your ******* & the time my lips
got stuck in your braces & they bled
for 8 hrs & the first time
you borrowed my lighter & that time
we passed each other & none of us said
hi but we looked each other in the eye
the whole time & 2 minutes after
you were out of sight i knew, winter
has started;
winter has come, and i dared to hope it would
stay; that it would never leave me the way
you did.
I should have stayed, away but how
could I when I knew you were trouble
in human form and you knew I was a trainwreck
waiting to happen, waiting for you.
There were so many chances to tell you what I’d give to watch you sleep,
Approximately four, since the first time I watched you eat lunch alone.
I stopped counting on the 33rd day I remembered
that circumstance and I were born enemies.
Love gives you a bad name.
The moral of the story is that
I need to remember : that hoping is the worst thing
I have ever done and can ever do,
and to forget your face.
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
her.
eyeless enigma.
she chasing another listener.
another one tied to fraility
trying to face the lid-less night,
constellations swarming with his
questions.
she.
kindred tornado.
inspiration's explosive alleyway.
she has left me for another.
left me here.
sullen, chiseled out,
a hidden sculpture leaking blood.
stuffed in silk, since the last time
she was here.
where does she hide or linger?
her ghost words waiting in a unseen library waiting for my thoughts to scroll through endless imagination.
muse of the stabbing spruce.
blinking in and out.
I am dejected out into ghost town rain, not even an insect to look at.
she is gone.
my eyes void of color, claws shred the page, she left me, dulled with hangdog drift.
where is she?
shadowing a hitman?
running wild through the next Picasso ear?
how does she imagine me?
a conflicted whisper outcasted in rain.
where. where. where did she go?
swishing leaves up into the miracle blue air with another.
towering perceptive ideas into the fingers of grace,
flowing down the anxious page smashing mediocre left and right.
**** her. bless her.
she.
a butterfly threading golden silk.
her mystery bonding with the population of every Galaxy.
I was rested when she left.
when she returns
she will not recognize me.
my frazzled hair. my hotmess trainwreck. my burned up furniture smoldering into the carpet.
Me.
on a rooftop scrubbing through starlight like my skylight of dreams.
if I wait with patience of Job.
will she sunrise burst me
in fountain light
falling through me
like that lover who exists in the 5th dimension.
rocking my world with pure fire thunder.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 3:45 PM UTC
She never said it'd be a clean break
because Her train has derailed again
and this time she made sure
you were crushed in the collision.
This is the end of everything,
She's made sure of that.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 8:51 PM UTC
Here is how I end.
This is my end.
Until anyone.
Witness what I have seen.
Not a sunset.
Or a trainwreck.
Just a whisper trailed off.
But it's okay.
No one noticed anyway.
Why wait for tomorrow,
When it's already proven today.
I've written to you,
All of these words.
All of my soul.
Poured down the drain.
There is no one else.
They say it might be.
But it's all a lie.
Let's finish.
This pathetic endeavor of space.
The eraser marks tear beyond my own.
Far from what I behold.
Tear holes.
Just stop me.
Now.
Before I become undone.
No breath left to run?
Find the space they least expect you to fill.
This end is my only saving.
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC