2:30 AM coffee and cigarettes, rain dripping from the ledge outside
Exhausted, but hopeful; a universe in my cup waiting to spill out
I look inside; this is no new world of wonder, only the one I know
A terrain of coiled barbed wire that engraved my battle scars
Stumble once more down the dark scrubby embankment, naked
Thin-ribbed dogs of waste howl my name; they know me here
The dreamcatcher is full, there will be no more allowed inside
Knives in my back twist like an old song I’ve heard too often
Is that you, looking down from the highest places of light and love?
Do you know what it’s like to be a graveyard worm in soft soil?
How many fingers am I holding up? That’s right, I have none
Little stumps that can’t hold on to anything, can’t even make a fist