when you fall into places and questions and phases unseen
you'll know where I've been
fleets and fleeting moments pass in stark daylight
wars of existence thrown about with absolute certainty of the sacredness
of life
and it blows by with myriad rains and floods and waves that wash into watercolors
sweet soft memories
that though I'm young
were whispers and tales that I have seen worlds crumble under the worn rubber
of my shoes
in these hours all passes by quickly.
how soon the light rises.
how soon our days begin again.
a day begins
while I sleep and hope that I'm not left too far in its wake.
sometimes I know that it all is a question of unspeakable importance
in this mind I live
this anxious heart and soul
turns and tortures itself
but blankness will do me in shortly.
so what of it?
what of
it?