I'm going to burn
and I'm going to bleed,
and I have no one to blame
but myself.

If this seems simple to you
in your way of black and white,
know that my way
of mud and smokey windows
doesn't make it easier.

I'm drowning.
I need you
and I don't know how to call for you.
There are moments I absolutely can't stand you,
but it's with you I can't live without.

Writing this letter with borrowed inks
In umbrageous hues of lonely evenings
Don't you read it at night thinking it's a dream of norm
As dreams often disappear with the advent of dawn

Sleep has lost its path today
Put out the moon if you can
On the way grab some clouds
Sow a warm blanket if you can

You aren't there yet here somewhere
Fogging up my eyes like breath on a mirror
My mind has locked its doors from the inside
And you keep knocking as a thought from the outside

I, unsteady, walk a hardwood ridge
in a cool early autumn wind
which has helped decreasing sunlight
begin to paint worn summer leaves.

As has become reality these days
I am alone while on this trek
as I search and slowly scout
for coming season among other things.

For a moment a retreating cloud,
a last remnant of past night's rain,
darkens both the woods and mood
soon it releases the sun
but not my brood.

cool your jets
at the airport
try not to smile or frown

no joking
at the check in
they'll use your gag to hold you down

did you pack
your pants yourself sir?
how long are you in town?

if you have to look
at the airport
make sure it's at the ground