passed closing time

i'm holding two black holes here in my head empty hungry swallowing light these informants bring me many things i can never own and yet still cherish we can catch the wind we can ride the waves brought to us by the air and waters but we cannot ever put them in our pocket we live through many things which never truly are and we also often die from much the same carrying forth such consequential dreams and never feeling out of place doing so what realms we trample upon shall remember our passing outside of the scars we leave and the skins we believe that we actually collect celluloid fingerprints like dust swallowing civilization with the breeze everything we are with a beer back and hopefully a charger to breathe life back into us if it's not too dear or too late what sick fucker is gonna want to you ask yourself well you've seen us ain't ya i'm having trouble letting go myself as my atrocities visit nightly just before i turn in and afterwards i still think that the sleep will absolve me