Brush me under the carpet,
burn the house down..
don’t walk this lane ever
I’ll hang loose fogging the air!
Particles of my dead;
words shall carry those-
to where you may not be,
creating an image for all to see..
Can only so much as try, to fail-
erase my mornings; my screams, my sighs..
How could you ever really win;
if what you breathe is what I’m in?