Nothing haunts me at night.

He kills any possibilities
of cumulus dreams
or optimistic considerations

He takes a knife to my organs
with the right
and shakes hands with gullible shadows
of makeshift persuasions
with the left

His kin takes kindly to me
licking the wounds
and lapping up tragedy
reassuring themselves
it did not leak out

He does not have a forgetful mind.


while relacing his thoughts
into anothers hands
He mutters, "i try my best
to keep from being nostalgic."


-----


the birds they twitter
pretty profanities about Nothing
they watch but do not take
resultant actions

they are afraid
to give incorrect consultation

but what my friend the blue jay
does not understand

is that Nothing


can kill me.