For myself.
Being able to have endured those five days also come home and stand on my feet again...
When darkness is holding me tightly. And I manges to come back in to life.
There’s a place so dark you can’t see the end.
Skies cock back and shock that which can’t defend.
The rain then sends dripping, an acidic question .
Forcefully, the power of suggestion .
Then with the eyes shut, looking thought the rust and rot.
And dust, a small spot of light floods the floor .
And pours over the rusted world of pretend.
The eyes ease open and its dark again.
Moving all around, screaming of the ups and downs.
Pollution manifested in perpetual sound.
The wheels go round and the sunset creeps behind.
Street lamps, chain-link and concrete.
A little piece of paper with a picture drawn floats.
On down the street till the wind is gone.
The memory now is like the picture was then.
When the paper’s crumpled up it can’t be perfect again.

In the memory you’ll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up