lost and found

who am i

but a vagabond

enduring a world of strangers

it's not often

i've traveled upon

throughout my suitcased past

a sympathetic soul

just as lost and incognito,

like a discarded transplant

which saves life,

as i,

who soars through the stars

seeking refuge from life's sorrows

the one who doesn't love to impress

but loves when impressed

the one who cries at the simplest things

and laughs at the toughest

who am i indeed

but so fortunate and found

missing

the mornings that you're not here

find me famished

but i can't eat

though hollow from the nights before

in the afternoons i lose all senses

with petal-less gardens

and imprints in the blades of grass

reminders of where we lay

but it's the nights i miss you most

the interminable nights of intolerable empty

where i hide in sorrow

in the darkest corners of the gloom

the long loud scream

there's a sea of ice
under which we'll crush
and a sun of gold
under which we'll melt
a torrent of rain
under which we'll drown
a tremor of earthquake
under which we'll smother
yet this earth continues what it has to do
for its inhabitants know not what they do
as we pass the ribbon of rubicon
under the big bold bright balloons
waving a carnival of streamers
of freedoms and liberties
the dopamine of our playground
unable to resist the riptide
stumbling fumbling tumbling
beyond the tipping point
like roller coaster riders
at the apex of the long loud scream
toward silence