First sunrise

Feels like the end of a vampire phase

No more last sunsets, only firsts

This morning, this day

Every day is now a first

I try to look at it, to take it in

But too much of a good thing will blind you

The anticipation in the pink and blue

The swelling up of joy from the

Perceived coming experience

That once it peaks over the hills

It’s magestic as fuck

And this poem serves no purpose

Except to be here as a sounding

Board for the first thoughts of

The first morning. The first morning

Sunrise. Is this enough?
I feel like I’m leaving something out

Like how the gold pushes through

The cattail grass as the wind moves

It in a dance. Daybreaking through

The smog to create a new framework

That maybe Los Angeles can be

Heaven, if we fool ourselves into

Believing that the smog is clouds

Clouds that are saving us

And not actually destroying us.

Feeling the irony, as these thoughts

Come as this series is meant to

Save myself from myself.

Feeling the irony as I sit in this

Car to write, a vehicle that is not

Mine. Because I am too cold

To do this on my own. With

The wind and everything else,

The suns rays just aren’t enough.
Niether is my hoodie. So I’ve got

His jacket on, sitting in his

Car. Allow borrowed things to

Start something that is meant to

Help me heal from this past year.

Heal from this past year, heal

From the moment when I’ll have

To turn the keys in, take this

Jacket off, and move forward in

This series, alone.

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