What's past is not yet past
If you fumble and tumble...
Death is like a crack on the windshield of my car
I can see that crack's dissemination...
This poem existed
in the future...
All these roads are as the print of lashes
on his body...
Dear Little One,
This world might feel a little strange...
Let me take words
and paint you a picture...
Where am I living,
How am I living...
Every word has meaning,
how do we all know, that...
Autumn came to whisper -
clinging on is futile...
My mirror don't lie
it shows me my deepskin scars...
Fall is moving in
a new season begins...
The people I've met during the course of life
slowly moving in, quickly rolling out...