It has been a long time.
I would call you an old friend but was ours a friendship of comfort or pain?
I am no longer as careless. No longer as sweet.
Time evicts such naive novelties.
I sit with the same trauma everyday smack dab on the middle of the school bus.
*** is easier than intimacy and I do not have to be better for it.
Substances replace substance.
I like life easier
I cannot tell where my holes come from- it doesn’t seem to matter. The holes are still there.
I am stuck back here writing, searching for something that I never found.
I have grown and I have changed
but my roots remain the same.