this is the way I know how to say it
this is the mind mourning the birth of self
but this is not impression, this isn't anything
I want to hold up to you in sex.
I'm only trying to realize the carnage
of my psyche along the broken streets of me inside.
in the dreams I don't remember I have you.
I've been uprooted. I know now the feeling of leaving home.
I know now I do have to search for it in the soul.
Which leaves me sitting in cafe's.
