As they spoke the words that I let crush the very foundation of my soul,
I climbed under and rock and hoped to die.
My rock was a sleeper sofa in an abandoned garage with my truck’s exhaust
Filling the void in the air and my soul.
How could she say I was a murderer when even the detective could see it was an accident.
I understand now though, because it wasn’t long before I was convinced of the same.
Useless, worthless, hopeless monster is what I came to see in myself,
As I clung to their every word as it was the definition of my spirit.
At the edge of the world
Home to many
Wasteland to the rest
Ravaging for food
Who would even think?
Life of Experience,
Clouded judgement and perceptions
As I ask what everyone around me sees
What I see I don’t know if I should say.
Do others see a hand full of flowers
While I see a bouquet of lilies
Until four years ago I would see flowers
But my perceptions have changed just as I
Heard go to song 190 and thought of water
You would only understand if you have been where I have
I love the outdoors even in here. I am 32 with 2 children who are my world. In recovery and grateful for it everyday. Enjoy writing even though I don’t think I am very good at it.
No birds chirping
Or children singing
Just men screaming nonsense
Into the wind
The sun doesn’t set
And the stars and moon
Have forsaken me
Lights on lights off
Make up your fucking mind
No quiet place
No one cares
No ice no fridge
I can not wait
To say, Goodbye summer.
View by Author