Debris

If you gazed into my eyes, would you see-- the cyclones spinning with things once beautiful, now mutilated debris? If you listened quietly, would you hear-- the nightly gasping for air, where anomalies asphyxiate soul belligerently? If you held my hands, would you feel-- trembling, as I walked the edge of runaway trains, whilst tumbling down track one came? Acquainted with implications, wild inviolable compulsions-- would you save me, before I fell through the cracks of obsessive traps, laid by oneself so brazenly?