I reread your poems,
Your soft unspoken words that
Mean so much.
I don't even know you,
You girl of wonderfully
Beautiful yet
Dreadful stories.

I wish I could be the
One to cure your
Scary thoughts.

And we showered in prison sized cells,
white tiled and PVC clad,
the B&Q; recommends it!-
hells.

And we died in those showers
that were prison sized cells,
white tiled and PVC clad,
doors-are-broken-again-
hells.

And we were saved by the
eat again yellow doors,
peering through blind black windows
into the clear streets at dawn.

And they yelled with a siren mouth
***** blue profanity and
you left your mark with a ****** white tee,
wet with the water that
hurtled down from the
shower head, unclean and *****.

My night sky has turned into a distant blur.
Staring out
I manage to lick the edge of it.
And I receive a now common taste
of numbed pain and sleep full nights.

Everything is a haze
and I'm the center of it.
Feeling everything I needed.

But what was that again?
Oh yeah, nothing.
Feeling better than before
I crawl into bed
and my dreams blossom more than the sun's sky.

Every morning I wake with the taste of the night before.
Feeling everything that wasn't wanted.
Feeling everything.
A sore head and an un easy tongue

I crawl into the shower
and thoughts start to fall on me.
I see the distant sky
and poke my tongue out at it.
Mr. moon tugs at it, and pulls me in.