See them coming
Hot fast burning projectiles
Know the crippled spinning sobbing wreck they leave.
Watch weeping growth
Hot salt tears and labouring howls
that accompany
Painful tearing re-birth
Of new energy and realisations.
Weak and new-ing
Un-sure and grateful.
Meteors leave no wreckage
Just a ragged gaping hole.
In numb raw terrifying silence
Fleeting almost images of who I was
Occasionally try to surface
Find no anchor
In any reality
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