In time, there is a way, not out of grief, but deep within it

Frying like a pan spitting hot oil out

Boiling up like a kettle 

Blue tv light beaming out

Roaming, soaking

Empty streets 

Blood-curdling raw sewage spewing forward through my stereo speakers

You feel ashamed 

Hanging by a rope

Hanging by a thread 

Touch the glowing stitches 

Dilate those tiny cuts
Letting a little fresh air in

Free from a framed cop-out reality 

Abolish reason by 

Capturing the sun and destroying time 

Open sea's mouth 

Your meteor has just fizzled out 

I exist insofar as I am perishing 

I am not what I just thought 

An original end in itself