I try to write a poem these days...
Building them of tears, cheap thrills
in my brain

Writing my heart out in a page
Because I can't find the way
Intellectual work for the scattered, helpless heart
I'll hang on the phone begging for sense
I'll hang on the phone for order -
in my mess

Oh how I thought I was over this
but life never stops, always a new risk

Oh God, save me this time
Oh God, give me back what's mine
I have questioned, who you really are?
What can I do with this wretch - my mind?
What was it? What is the meaning behind?
Read me like a tarot card.
I will open up bare like a wound that's fresh.
I will show you my guts, my everything.
This is shadow work. This is heavy load.
This is Wheel of fortune. This is part of the road.