Autumn's keen colors
bust out gold-flecked
      and lucent
A fetching masquerade
Til one day the facade drops
      The flaunting stops
And we face our transformation --
The body of real things

The cleansing verity of snow, yes:
We make our cold confessions
      to it --
Our sooth world unadorned;
      No high fashion statements
      No sweet smells from the earth.

Just the white truth of being --

We're at a loose end, huddled into a tiny corner
We watch all that is around us and all the wheeling wonders of life and all these cycles of night and day and we think
  what the hell are we doing?

We're all linguists in a continent with no languages.

We scrabble around we fight we rage
Trying to expand and grow and explore
but we are so limited!

So limited.

We burn too bright for this world alone.

I wish that
I did not know
where all broken lovers go
maybe then I'd have let you go

people driving fancy cars
look like beetles to the stars

the missiles and the bombs
are like symphonies gone wrong

and if there is a god
they'll know why it's so hard to be human

Bud

Open

Blink at sun-

Fall to ground

last thing  i remember
counting backward
cold room fading

chest cracked
exposing heart
broken but
still beating

illusion of control
dissolves like
anesthesia

hours and days
coagulate
dripping
through
my fingers

am i ok
not sure i want 
an answer

sternum
consumed
blue flame
of pain

but

dawn's light
growing

and

i awaken
three month
night

i am ok
but i will
never
be the same

now
I bleed
for all

and none

will bleed
for me