Everything About Me Is Wrecked:

my skin, my scabs,
my mountain and dirt…

the grail.

I fidget a few times;
where are the remnants?

tobacco crumbs in my pocket-
charred paper and filter at the end-
walking alone in a light drizzle-
my cousin at home in his room.

I flicker again;
somehow this made sense but when I breathe out it all collapses.

anything that I have now is just a memory somewhere in my brain.

nothing new has ever happened in quite a while.