soup

there were too many-
roadblocks.

there were so many-
heartaches.

there was a rip of fabric; a gong-sound
to start and to empty me;
so many stars and blurry with tears,
round-n-round and must one go on?

were did it all correspond?
sometimes there is a dark wall so
vast
it exists forever.
and ever and
god hates randomly.

soups on says mom;
what happened to random pasts,
lost nights and humbling with thought?
perspicacious is i as night breaks the bow
of me;
of regret and hate and love-
what will happen to light?

pauper of feeling and night shines its
cool feel- i adore nothing anymore.