He's worn the same clothes for a week
He hopes no-one notices the heart on his sleeve
the heart that bleeds
Lies that he's kept in the brim of his hat
Wondering what's the same
Wandering different towns that
feel the same
Pondering the shame
Longing just to be in control
But he can't indulge
So he self-medicates
So he can meditate
On all the things wrong
That can't be made right
On all the things he writes
Poems that won't be read
only seen
So he can hide behind his words
but he always gets what he
deserves