Jul 2018
Little scar on my arm proves to my eyes,
I have endured, and I am still alive.
3am, I am reminded that I opened holes to my soul,
To prove that I am human,
To prove I am in control,
I am reminded that everything I am is rooted in this, blood.
Dig me a new home in the muck and the sand and make me a new man.
A love poem to my arms, for I am grateful. I hear my brother sing and you feel like home, my skin. I felt alone and I was lonely. But I know I am alive. I know I am alive. I know I am alive.
you are forgiven.
I have endured, and I am still alive.
3am, I am reminded that I opened holes to my soul,
To prove that I am human,
To prove I am in control,
I am reminded that everything I am is rooted in this, blood.
Dig me a new home in the muck and the sand and make me a new man.
A love poem to my arms, for I am grateful. I hear my brother sing and you feel like home, my skin. I felt alone and I was lonely. But I know I am alive. I know I am alive. I know I am alive.
you are forgiven.
I suppose I should forgive myself one of these days for what I did,
To me, to you, to this skin that lives on my arms and by extension, my wrists.
To me, to you, to this skin that lives on my arms and by extension, my wrists.
