Year of the Dragon

Sometimes I feel like the rain is my only friend.

It draws the warring beehives into a stalemate

Easing the fervor to a place where I can meet the day

when thinking how all the trees were stripped of their color in one night

How out-of-place everything feels

As a pantomime of something familiar

An awakening within the shards

Where my landscape has never forgotten the weapon of fire

Sometimes I feel so alone, like I am the furthest one from shore

The deepest in the woods, the most sensitive in the green

That I wonder if I will ever depart into something else.

I wonder if it will ever feel like home

Sometimes I feel like the soul of the desert; just barren and patient and shitty

Adrift on the dunes of my own vacant thoughts

Writhing from the pull of reality

Like some performance, that greets the world with lightness

And I feel it like a wind that never subsides

A restlessness, as if my body is a haunted house

As we speak on the ghosts of numbers, like we know them 

While the sands of our souls are blowing away without import