I kept the sentinels from our scenes in the pocket of my heart strings… tampering the dilly dallying of perfect blushing souls lost to the desert of want from the milky outset of wanton rivers; happy stars I still gallery each strand of bloodied hair…

Come, dust my eyes. Sleep I cannot find. Swallow the bitter, powdery lumps of violent truth, as night descends. Fickle favor forsaking me. Rail against ironies, injustice, isolation, self-pity. Plead my case on golden streets in vain.           “Hear I am!…

“Hello, Darkness,” I whispered at the void one night. This old black hole in my heart is swallowing me up again. Devouring, covering, sealing me in, so tight. It has always been like these. Empty room, unmade bed, Empty heart, filled with all the things…