The scars of a working man.
On his hips hang his tools,
on his back
his family.
His wife
and his sons.

To be the backbone of America
the men in a dirtier uniform.
I'm not above the dirt on my boots
but under a higher calling
in a lower place.

I write
because every time I tell someone I want to be an author, I get looks of malcontent.
I know I won't be as rich as doctor
because I don't want to be a ******* doctor.

I write
because every time I tell someone I didn't play football in high school,
but instead played bass in a band
and wrote poetry in the back of my classes
I get looks of confusion.
I didn't waste my size and strength
I used my mind and heart.

I write
because I've found more solace
in words
than in the world around me.

It took me a while, but I think I finally see
all of the cracks that lurked beneath your skin.

I can't believe I ever saw you as perfect.

732 miles away
and I'm looking to get further.
I'd like to say that I miss you,
but I'd be lying to us both.
Thank you for the pain.
Thank you for breaking me
I'll pick and choose these broken pieces and rebuild myself from scratch.
I'm not the same man you knew in high school

Address me accordingly.

I'm living in Augusta, Georgia now
working my hands to the bone.
The first night I was here I shaved my head,
to cope with the Southern heat.
You didn't seem to like it, nor the way it looked with my beard.
Good thing I don't have to look good for you anymore.

I told you that when I come home,
I'll be a different man.
You didn't seem to know what I meant
nor did you really care.

I found myself so far from home
and realized the man I've been for far too long
was never me at all.

When I opened the door, I hardly expected you to barge right in.

How dare you waltz through these halls,
like you've been paying rent?
It took me months to fan the scent of your perfume out of the air.
Even longer to wash out the stains in the carpet.

If you're so happy to be home

why did you leave?

There's a hole in my chest.
I hate the way it whistles in the wind,
singing its song of emptiness to the world.

There's a hole in my chest.
I hate the way I nearly drown every night
when I take a shower.

There's a hole in my chest.
I hate the way it looks like everyone
who has ever left me.

There's a hole in my chest.
I hate the way it stings.