You came into my life,
and I couldn’t believe
how bad I had been.

You came into my life,
and ripped up my dirt–
You came into my life,
and watered the earth–
You came into my life,
and altered the world–

Slashing and burning,
decimating the trails
and the ways of me–
And I couldn’t believe
how little I’d realized;
How nothing I knew
would be of use to you

little would that matter,
come your bloom
And the state of me–
little would I bother

a pleasing machine–
Refurbishing dreams–
They requiring no hope,
in the face of each day,
affirmated ‘fore sleep

hard not the question–
How bad I had been–
Painful the wonder–

And when it breaks,
and when it’s down,
anger– Not despair–
Excuses– Not deflations
of confidence or faith;
But merely awaiting
the next go-round.

A Rube Goldberg–
Impractical– Madness–
But the ends’d meet;
A shot of DayQuil–
Absent mind’s quickfix–
A fair mask to cover
what’d not be repaired
and’d needed to pass

hibernating in bed–
Carcaufiguized until–
Reincarnated again.

Strangest remains
how comfy it felt–
To find myself wrong,
to surrender my faith.

You left from my life,
and I couldn’t think.
I only could feel.
I didn’t believe.