trudging along the mountain
barbed wire guard rail
holding my place
words losing meaning
horizon still shortening
when they tell me to
alchemize these wounds
it's something i'm not able to do

in plain view i see the truth
not palatable, nor pleasant
simple as syrup
maybe for everyone else
but not for me

pray tell
which way will set me free?
listening to the head
i'd let go of the railing
and leave you in my wake--
praying for
my dear departed soul
the truth i see so obvious
but confounded by the
twists & turns
different rivers, different roads
all going nowhere
to the same ******* hole.
- - -
so pray tell me,
what does it mean to flow?