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Feb 2016
Breathing,
Feeling,
Crushing weight of heartbreak healing.

I am walking,
I am singing;
I am living,
I am being.  

It's raining sunshine;
I'm sweating ice.

The painter is blind,
The pianist is deaf,
The poet is illiterate.
You are inconsiderate.

At best.

-

I am walking.
Ten miles yesterday.
Talking
One hundred miles an hour, looking for a way-
Some way- to keep myself alive.

I am singing.
Bourbon fueled ballads of confusion
Not quite dancing, my body is swinging
In ways reminiscent of your delusion:
Somehow you thought you couldn't thrive.

I am living.
I am soaking up Earth.
I am forgiving
You for my hell. I am acknowledging your worth.
Not everything of me did you deprive.

I am being.
I am in the present
I am seeing
Clearly, we came and went.
Now, I still hope for your well being.

-

For your sun speckled eyes to shine down at someone, one day, you'll love.
For your violent mind, one day, to calm.
Your pressured heart; your unfinished art.

For your captive spirit to be free again.
For the wanderer inside you to be found again.

I picture
The mountaintops we threw our brains over
The cities I traced for you
The shoes you laced, the adversity we faced...

I still hope

You find those things one day
In your poor racked brain:
Turn them over,
Read the dates stamped on the back
like old Polaroids.
Letting them dance through your mind
Leaving imprints
Inspiring new bounds, new footprints.
I know this will never reach him, I know he will never see his name across this screen. He doesn't care about me anymore. I still hurt immensely, but last night I found- for the first time- I hoped he could be happy.
M
Written by
M  Detroit
(Detroit)   
464
     ---, Sam Winter and M
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