Smoking Mirror
Going home to a place that
Faded away
With time, with life, with age
Survival is death.
The heavens in my eyes opened up
Flooding me
Awakening me
Liberating me, my
Pristine superficiality
Shattered.
Sleep, food, sex, air
Oblivion.
The mirror of my conscience
Reflecting my
Hopes, my fears, my love, my rage.
Rage for my
Insatiable ideals
Lost within infinite waste
In that space
So precious and perfect and perilous and free.
Foggy, streaked, cracked
Gone.
Empty.
Open. The future