Somewhere, amongst the debris
of cigarettes after ***,
And a failed attempts at sleep, resulting in a restless time of mangled sheets.
I  tried to forget what it means to love.

I forgot what it means to breathe,
to sit still, and just be.

To heal oh wow I wish, yeah more like, let go no time to waste, they are on your heels.

Somewhere, beneath these hooded seams
of solitude and well-versed grief,
beats a heart less cynical,
less tamed by vague distraction.

My nervous ticks and bad habits,
line of best fit for a near-hit
of satisfaction:

I was told Warren you are better than that hmmmmm, how?  yes I wonder how? Where ?

We attach ourselves to emotions and allow people in again! Bad idea!.. Why for them to make an idiot of you, for them to say things until you give in and find yourself dependent on someone else, to long for them to wish for more? And then ! Nothing!!!!!

This is not enough, I know.
This is not nearly enough
to cool the bray of life
that still rattles meaning in my bones.

I thought I forgot what it means to love,
what separates a house from a home.

Can we ever though? for its wounds leave scars with furrows that to be visible to any who care to look!

Well I’ll use this medium as a coping tool!
To heal hopefully!
Grow hopefully!

Write, write, write !

I’ll find life again!