as serenity floods
driving my brain in circles.
humility reminds me to just let the composure be.
"god grant me the power to know the things I can change the things I can't and the difference"
but this pain has a face, vilified. unstricken
deeper than what my soul can give
higher than my mind
sharing all of my late night testimonies while your tongues touch
as the rat creeps past my eyes, onto your legs
dragging my mourning through the streets of our town
first impressions
second glances at souls you'd think you know
have you ever dreamed you would wake up dead? I'd swear that I have
but my word is temporary residence of a mind's eye
wandering
endless fucking trudge.
recognition vs. the ability to let go
of the places and the people that destroy me the most
in ways there is no rhythm or reason.
and in that lies the sickness
you. just. know.