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My identity was stolen
by God.

I have no sense of self,
no sense of purpose,
every personality trait of mine
is nearly reflecting
from a nearby shiny surface.

I crave individuality,
to feel like I'm a person.
I was born a blank canvas
inside and out.
Whenever I try to decorate myself
it doesn't feel like self-expression.
It feels like plagiarism.
It feels like copying someone
else's hard earned work.
For how can I express myself,
when I have no ******* clue who I am?

Supposedly, I just have to "find myself,"
But along with no identity,
I have no sense of direction.
So I wander,
and I wander,
and I wander.
I think
until my brain bleeds.
I think
until my eyes close.
And it all grows
quiet.

It all grows
white.

It all grows
into nothing.

So maybe,

I found myself

after all.
My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head

self-inflicted

Don't get all weird about it.

Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.

So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?

I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."

But he will not.

He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.

And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.  

He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick

Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale

Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.
I hear the motor humming in the background

I hear the chirps from the morning birds, and even they don't sound enthusiastic about the time of day

I can hear your mom scratching bug bites on her arm. She scratches, digs, and scrapes, as if she is expecting to find something.

Bottles of sweet tea sit rattling next to me, clanking with each bump in the road, with each jump of my heart.

I hear brakes screeching to a slow stop, with a desperateness that reminds me of my darkest moments, my cries that no one witnessed, the tears that fell without acknowledgement.

The sun has yet to warm the world this morning, but it still casts its light on my arms, making my sunburn tingle but reminding me I'm alive

I can smell your great grandmother's perfume from when she hugged me so tight, reminding me of a family I never had.

I can smell the ocean, feel the grit of sand in the car. No matter how hard you try, we all take a bit of the beach home with us. It's salty waters one day blend with our salty tears.

But all I care to hear
Are your sweet shallow yawns and breathing. As long as you're breathing that's always all I need.

I think I could very well tackle anything if I knew all the time that you were alive, content, and happy.

I feel the need to give you an apology, for what I truly do not know. But whatever it is, I am genuinely sorry. Please, never let yourself go. Learn to love yourself as I love you.
the ride home on 7/5/2016,
Under stars
With eyes that brightly shine
I was yours
And you were mine

Summer days
That never seemed to end
Were numbered days
Too few to spend

When the heart breaks
When the soul aches
When the love is gone

Then where do we belong?

The way to love
A path we couldn't find
A twisted maze
Too tangled to unwind

But our waves found
Each others empty shores
Footprints marked
Once lonely bedroom floors

When the heart breaks
When the soul aches
When the love is gone

Then where do we belong?

Under stars
With eyes that brightly shine
I was yours
And you were mine

One more night
We only just pretend
That autumns breeze
Won't mean the summers end

Whatever it takes
Whatever fate makes
If we just hang on

I'll stand at hell's gate
Carry the weight
If we just stay strong

And if the heart breaks
If the soul aches
If the love is gone

Tell me where do we belong?
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