everyday, I’m reminded of a place I used to be
in the shadows of mosaic windows
or in the spaces of the people I miss
living in the places that aren’t here with me now

i’m reminded.

the feeling doesn’t get old, but sometimes cold…
I back burn my deep reality to believe i’m living a different one
I believe that they understand me but come home at night
knowing that they don’t.

am I lost, or am I found
a question I ponder on
too profound.

sometimes death dreams awaken me and I forget I was ever alive.
dead at sight I collide with the bears that eat me alive.
am i alive?

never been to the snow top because I just don’t know snow,
but I feel cold here. so fucking cold.

who is to hold me, or kiss me at the door?
who is it.

stop it. and stop that. stop the ghost visits.

…are you here?