and we are a broken generation,
I explain,
where the scars that mar our heart,
match the scars that mar our skin,
and we cut away at feelings,
feelings that make us unsatisfied,
with who we are,

and im raising up orphans,
when the home I know becomes an collection of strangers .

and I'm giving them water
but there is poison in this well.
and they are set on this desire to carve out more,
more time.
more space.
more love.
more energy.
more. more.more.

I'm taking a melon scraper to my insides,
trying to rid myself of baggage getting in the way of what you want,
and what I want for you.