When my world came crashing down on me

When my world came crashing down on me-

When my world fell down about my knees

and shards of broken glass were everywhere to be seen

when all hope was lost and darkness fell

somebody reached out towards me in the midst of my mess

my living turmoil of troubles.

They reached their hand into the deep waters and dragged me

to shore. They saved a dying drowning girl who was tattered in ruins and

in love with the Storm.

When my world came crashing down on me-

When the cities were full of burning buildings

and smoke filled my lungs when there were no heroes in site

and nobody to be counted on

this lone man appeared to save me

just randomly

out of the blue

out of the internet

a complete and utter stranger

but somehow I just knew,

to trust him. And so I did and so it began.

a strange sort of friendship with a stranger from a far away land.

And now when I sleep

I only have dreams of really meeting him.

I have dreams of Starlight and of September.

I have dreams of long travels and hopeful

that I can only get my broken compass to work.

I hope that when I am searching my map its the same one he sees.

I hope if I were to dare to take a journey

he would find me.

Stuck on the serene

I’m stuck on the serene.
I am a fly caught by the sky of stars,
onto your cars dashboard’s glass-
smashing fast
beneath windshield wipers cast of silver.

the past is a postcard memory.
a momentary glismpe over my shoulder,
and a 35 cent postage stamp.

there is so much love here.
it covers me, endlessly.
until i breakout like an allergy.
feeling the rash of never belonging/nor…
being worthy of all the love
he sends to me.

I’m a broken down rabbit earred TV screen.
stuck on static and white noise.
i am broken into too many
ancient places
to be fixed by your hi-fi definations.

I am the broken down pay-phone,
in the mental ward which only takes
quaters, and everybody is fresh out,
sadly giving me longing looks of too much pain.

I am the peeling paint job
on the oldest wooden house
abandoned ob our block
windows nailed shut
front door busted into
filled with the evils of crime, rodents of luck and opportunistic stray cats.

I am the fever which makes you sweat.
my heat intensifies
under a heating blanket, some fiction
and a bodybag of a corpse filled to the brim:
with lies.
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