I remember once
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
remembering at one time all the numbness was lightning
i wore it...before drowning myself in all this
light...like this heart is a ballast
& these dreams are more than mine...the hours I spent on ours...and yet I still climb.