Wisps

I’m only alive because
of the smell of blacktop on a humid day after
it rains; and rain itself—thunderstorms
lightning thrills like riding in the car with
my brother; loud music of the
“i don’t give a fuck” type
and running; holding breath dizzy
passing out on grass–wet grass; alcohol
burning my mouth–tingling and drugs;
the feeling of living that isn’t
real and sunrise; a new beginning fresh start
clean sheets; white pure and snow; dark quiet
night–talking, skater boys; in the park smoking
under the gazebo; stars bright—Orion
finding trees in the stars because
I am dead
on the inside;
the smell of cold—death; […]