There is a flight landing at 2:30am
Full of empty faces and eyes
Empty expressions, full baggage
Filing down a birthing chute
To rejoin a loveless plane
Or perhaps to stop at a bar
And have a quiet drink
Before the sun rises over the tarmac
To stare at a passing forest of legs
All going to join the sky
Or recently fallen from heaven
Taking long sips of their poisons
Taking in news clips
And sports reels
From televisions they cannot hear
Prolonging their departure
Back into a world
That will continue to eat their hours
All the while casting a glance
Back towards the terminal
Trying to remind themselves
Why they came back down to earth.

I've thought many thoughts
And cried many nights
I've relished sorrow
I've basked in joy
I've felt the ****** of a lover
And lied in the dark
I've climbed high mountains
I've delved into deep caves
I've tasted honey
I've tasted poison
I've known the light and dark
I've cherished and despised
And now
I wish to glow
I wish to hurt
I wish to thrash about in this flesh and know something
Something eternal
Something internal
Something that will not fade
If vanity is the spoken word of a mans' flesh
What is the language of his soul?
If all I have to offer the world is my body
What remains of what is inside?
If all thats left to me are final words
What meaning will I leave behind?
Here I stand knowing nothing
Standing above me is only myself
I must rise above myself
If I should ever wish to know anything.

It came to me
In the dark of night
On a morning too early
Sometime muttering to myself amid the day
That tomorrow I will curse the man I am today
Much like today I curse the man I was yesterday
But it hasn't changed anything at all
Tomorrow I will stare back at myself as I write these words
And despise what I am right now
So I can ignore what I will have become tomorrow.

Everyone wants to do it all over again
You'll hear these laments
Dripping down fire escapes from tenement buildings
Spoken in quiet studies in secluded mansions
They wail along the rails of New York subways
Slur out of the backs of taxis in Atlanta
The money not made
The ******* not had
Again and again
To start over
Not a word spoken of the kindness not given
Always of the favor not received
The wrong not repaid is the regret of many
Wealth not worth
Hormones not hearts
Time not tenderness
Gain not growth
Everyone wants to do it all over again
And become the monsters they could have been