I’m in every woman I write about
and in every man, the dream
I’m inserted in every line
like dirt stuck underneath the seams
You can uncover my dreams
in every word I write down
witness the nightmares that plague me
that no sunshine can ever drown
Until I write down that one story
that’s yearning to be told
the one that hopes to find the truth
before my soul grows too cold
Until then, find pieces of me
between the lines that I write
in books and in poetry
a weary traveler wandering in the night