donate to ya boy

Friday, May 22, 2015

I remember once

growing up

in a house I

don't go into


the sun lurking

over the floor

as I drew pictures of the ocean floor.

before the war.

before the pills...before real words.

I remember the real world

being a block & a few friendly smiles

now its a few thousand miles

with people I barely speak to

on nor offline.

I think I've lost it all

gained even more without it

I think Im only a poet

when Im writing..

the rest of the time I'm just a lost soul....writhing

I find comfort in the hurt

somber solace

remembering at one time all the numbness was lightning

i wore it...before drowning myself in all this this heart is a ballast

& these dreams are more than mine...the hours I spent on ours...and yet I still climb.

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