I tiptoe past the death

On my doorstep

And I tiptoe past so many things

More

Words and their meanings

Have long since tiptoed past

  Me

Around these implications, assumptions

Answers I don’t want

All just as real

Every bit as unreal

As this corpse

I can’t remove

Can’t remember

Can’t resist

To look

Can’t seem to look away

This is how it ends

he says so many times

In my dreams

Of what was what could have should have was never meant to be

Realness

What is

And what can’t ever

This stillness this decay

Proves nothing

Can never prove

This fugue to be a figment

Imagination

or Creation

LIFE

I know both

for I know nothing

am sure of even less

Than I was

When I held it in my hands

Warmth breath, beating terror

LIFE

it was there or was it

Always

Rotting hallucinations

On my sidewalk