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6.15.18 //
I’m unsure what about
Those midwestern summers
Keep me up at night
Thick air and greenery as far
As my eyes could see
The feeling of a heart beating
Plagued by sadness, but for a brief moment
Pure and full of life
Feelings immense and pain too great for
One soul to bear
I slept on a leather couch for months
Body sticking to the cushions
As the bed was foreign
Unsure as to when you’d return home
I spent far too many nights on
A rickety, wooden porch
The one escape
A false happiness
Letting my vocal cords do the work
While my hands shook
And mind reeled and unraveled
Liquor soaked, gray smoke staining my clothes
Why did it take you all this time to believe in me?

One foot in front of the other
I spent my mornings alone
Appreciating the growth around
But not within
Forced friendships
Surrounded by wholesome and meaningful interactions and relationships
A hand to hold
Chests to sob into
Beating my skull against an oak door
Broken glass
Shards of what once was
Swept into the trash where they belong

I can’t help but long for you
And the Missouri sky
For the moments where
For a stint in time
Everything was calm
We were where we were supposed to be
 May 2018 doodle poodle
Every time I look up,
The clouds will block my sight.
Every time I raise my arms,
Shackles hold me tight.
They keep me to the ground,
With a fierce and gruesome might.
And as I glance at my surroundings,
I know this isn’t right.

They say that hope will help you,
Save you from drowning in the sea.
But still the arms will wrap me up,
Laugh as they listen to my plea.
I’ll have freedom in my palm,
Then trip and drop the key.
And as I try to escape myself,
I know no one’s saving me.

As I sit at the desk I’m writing,
With the blood from my own veins.
My hands will remain shackled,
Still weighed down by the chains.
But I’m fighting, and I’m trying,
Whistles blowing from the trains.
I’m not screaming, I’m not crying,
Run away from all the pains.

While sitting in the corner,
Lifting up my aching hand,
I think about the people,
Standing outside, as they planned.
This is my new place now,
Suppose this my home land,
I can still see liberty,
But I’m sinking in the sand,
Stuck inside my own mind,
They’ll never understand.
 May 2018 doodle poodle
When the sky is so white
It's blinding.
When the ocean's pristine
It looks blue.
When a thousand years pass
In a minute.
When the liar's so good
It seems true.

When they say your brain
Is half their size.
When the million year old
Calls you aged.
When your strength can't be seen
Under a magnified glass,
And the one who moved mountains
Looks staged.

When the past seems like fairytales
And the future all but.
When you find a pencil
But the eraser's been cut.
When life lays a casket,
And death knocks on your door,
All the lies become secrets,
But secrets no more.

— The End —