Between us, like invisible shields--
the lies that feel palpable ,
the nightmares we hid behind our teeth,
the colorless hours in vain; and the 
higher we go the lower we become.

How can we feel what we do not?
And are the ghost more real 
than the stories we tell at slepless  bed time?
Had the wine and comeths dont been at our hands
we handnt met with our vices;
And had the shoeless on my Converse
not loosen ,
I would had left behind a space.