I am an uncomfortable mess of big words and over-thinking
and clichés that don't quite fill my appetite.
In here I am a swamp with a paradise deep down that can't fight the
sludge sludge sludge
and I miss you terribly
and I miss myself- before you and the knowledge of war and political turmoil and those tumors that ****
(not just cancer, but that type of ache that punches your ribs into a pulp).
Sometimes I look up to the sun and it should make me feel light and free,
but I am so lost here- not like when I was young.