no. 1

Fireworks and free falls,

Passion and primitive fear.

The bell rings three tolls.

I wipe away a cold tear.

I close my eyes,

Searching for the ache.

Yet, my mind lies;

It fears what is fake.

The effervescent landscape

Of my unconscious self,

Hiding away my mistakes—

Claiming it's for my health.

My waking hour.

Why I wither and I weep.

My lack of power.

Why I find comfort in sleep.