People bring too
many bags with 
all filled with 
things designed to 
pull and tear
and rip apart 
piece by piece 
parts of me
eyeing them quickly 
looking for value 
then chucking them 
aside without care
hey I need 
that and on
they go from 
top to bottom 
scraping me like 
I’m a tin
of cold beans 
no no more 
scavengers calling themselves 
lovers when they’re 
really only after 
what is salvageable 
not what’s left 

Reigniting what 
once was
never works 
the kindling 
we were 
that once 
set everything 
ablaze had 
gotten wet
unable to 
catch spark 
time has
a way
of moving 
one on
while keeping 
the other 
its prisoner 

I miss
no one 
I missed
only me 
but now 
we’ve found 
each other 
and we 
tell stories 
about what 
we did 
when we 
were apart 
old friends 
we are

If it were
up to me
I’d like to 
live without a 
past to just 
show up here 
right now because 
that’s how I 
think that people 
retain the precious 
privilege that life 
is to all
imagine being new
now what would 
you then do 

I just wanna 
be left alone 
not for any 
really real reason 
except for maybe 
I have found 
my burrow my
den and my
dearest and I 
know that there’s 
very little left 
to ever find