Guest
Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun And the days blur into one And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass Was never much but we made the most Welcome home Ships are launching from my chest Some have names but most do not If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost Heal the scars from off my back I don't need them anymore You can throw them out or keep them in your mason jars I've come
