I used to write here
still and perched on the brick
wall collapsed, cat eyes trembling
seething organs in enemy territory,
My Raging fires; I the pheonix with nine lives.

I used to write here
Begotten in towers martyring saints
Time deep and lost meanly
spilling and staining
ruining the scars

I used to write here
aged with curving charcoal lines
blown disconnected like 'fury bugs'
yet dead the supernova explosions.
I- Flailing sparkler.

I used to write here
sobbing with dead mice in hands closing,
some mummified,
dry disintegrating sand castles,
time falling, falling,
stinging my face found in the glass... (for what?!)

I used to write here
years ago, everything different?
Before other storybook experiences
multiplied viral thoughts and
spun my adolescence,
commencing.

09/09/2005

Author's Note: Wow, I thought I'd made peace with the past but putting this back in here is very timely. I have revised, I hope it helps the flow- it was going to be very very broken, like instead of the third stanza: "I used to write here/aged with curving charcoal lines/disconnected fury bugs/dead supernova explosion/Flailing sparkler" I kinda prefer that maybe... hm, just maybe not bc it makes sense.

Posted on 07/08/2006
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