terrors

A midnight yawns
in terror for the youth,
and float on words,
we can't eat on nouns,
but on powders, like passion,
like dust it all seems.
There is a presence that hides
in the walls of this house,
pieces of skin to tell its tales.
This bed is a lifeboat,
farther out to sea,
farther out is me.
And above I see the sky speak,
if ever black holes swallow,
my hands reach out.
Cut on the way out the window,
but I can't see them bleed.
I'm safer on the inside,
yes I know it's true,
although I don't know what it means,
I don't know what it seams
if not for me, then onto you.