i will admit that so much of what i think to do is negative,
so many parts self-destruction,
fueled by too many complacent addictions,
and so much nonesense,
that i forget for hours at a time just what i am.

and as one becomes three, becomes five,
everything seems to somehow arise,
and it's beautiful when everything comes to life.
nights in the graveyard, walking or
watching fireworks and pretending that things were still held together
by something that may have evaporated long ago
like a reservoir run dry in the sun.

and there will be pictures of this,
scattered shots of unembarrassed pride,
a foolish belief that every night is going to fade into morning,
if given enough time.