Hello I found myself standing at this door again, offering Mundane metaphors and dilapidated imagery (Are you tired of my grief yet? My secondhand pain, fermenting like bad liquor Acrid from the taste of smoke on the skyline Pried open and plundered until there's Nothing Of value left in this burial chamber. Still, I drift through the catacombs, Brushing through wide-open fields A single farmhouse amid the ripened beige Distorted by years of wind and rain And the sky gapes open like an eye (But all I see is eigengrau). [I can feel it bearing down on my shoulders With the weight of water when you Sink down to the twilight zone, Swallowed into the bowels of the earth Amid creatures that thrive in the dark. But I am photophilic and crave the touch of A thousand suns Even after the black holes have evaporated And purged out all they swallowed And even when I can no longer remember My name, my face I know you'll be waiting at the end of the line.] An abandoned landscape, liminal