survival is cheap

This is how i feel
this onion peel
discarded
shell of wasted empathy//
this is how i taste
this furry filthy *****
waste
of
flavours savoured.
This is how it feels
inside
to die
then lie
in hope of faith
restored.

Sitting
while it rains
outside
my thoughts.
The seasons storm
while thiniking//pausing//stroking
i climb back into the safety
of my mind.
it is mine.
To hibernate
a pleasure
brief but
still so much
grief to grieve.
A cliche,
this damp patch
of regrown
faith.
This testament to
survival.
perhaps not the fittest,
but always
a stayer.