Dawn

So many friends lost for “friends” gained.

Was it worth it for those passing hedonistic moments?

Those peals of unrepentant head-back tongue-flapping spit-smacking laughter,

That saturated overspill of ecstasy at the impulsive idiocy of another drenched mind

So unforgettably preserved in a ten second disappearing clip carefully carelessly captioned

Misspelled

Lost to the ether before your mind remembers to unremember,

Plunging deep into a dark vice where the beat pounds so unrelentlessly

Jaw aching, stomach turning, eyes itching and squinting and blinking and burning

Unaware of time or date or where you are or who you were, 

Or how you lost yourself.

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Flight

Croatia was the holiday of a lifetime,

For the passengers and the crew, homeowners and

Firemen fought the flames that lingered on,

Fed by puddling

Jet fuel.

Paramedics shrouded fragmented flesh in yellow,

Formed a yellow sea.

Investigations descended,

Fighting their way through media microphones,

Roar of questions punctuated by the beat of helicopter blades

And broken hearts.

Picked over the plane’s carcass like ants,

Carefully dissecting scorched remnants, torn metal.

Desperately searching for answers.

For the voices of dead men.