I don't know how to accept compliments
Like I don't know how to load a gun
And I'm afraid to learn because
I've never wanted to **** myself for trying to learn something new

Do not recoil when I forget how to hug
Because I've never wanted to escape something so badly that felt like home

Nomads can only remember what home means
When they taste it in freshly baked bread
And when you don't have to knock to come in
I have been knocking on vacant doors
And my knuckles didn't offer their blood in exchange for your absence

I do not know how to ask for help
Like I know how to load of gun
Because I guess a little practice is all it takes
And I could only focus on one thing at a time

I am living in the ruins
of a
broken heart

Trying
To be a legend
Won't
Get you into heaven

What is lost in the fire
will be found in the ashes
If I am willing to endure
this inevitable rebirth

I have no expectation for things to last.
Everything has a clock, an expiration date, an erosive half-life.
After taking stock of my current relationships,
I realized I'm hesitant to invest in people
because I don't think people will stick around.

People change.
People leave.

And for people who don't deal with change well
like me
that means
a sort of implosion.
Humans constantly assume different roles.

Mothers become grandmothers,
friends become strangers,
brothers become fathers.

With that, even family will leave you behind--
out of sight out of mind.
And I haven't been thought of in such a long time
I begin to think
no one will ever see me again.
Now I'm just wishing I can be useful in some way, so I can stop feeling like the world is tired of carrying me.

I sit,
watching people pass by as their world changes,
and mine falls apart.

In a world
of trees, I
was born
a bird.

Neither of us is God
but I finally found
someone who
answers my prayers