Your piled clothes were left in the basement.
You're holding breath - I can't see where your face went.

These cities grew up like vines on a tree-
with water, and lights, and history.
Lost both hands in a turret-gun fight,
Saw the ghosts for years every night.

(These days, you must be careful-
This one time I looked up
And saw glass raining down
From a fire that broke the windows out.
Another time, it was fire being born out of glass.)

And at the same speed, you nearly lost yourself.
And at the same peak, you really lost yourself.

Our bad vibes drowned in a washdown.
Our anger left us deaf and begging at a doorstep.