If I gave you my soul,
would you read each page?
Scribble notes of interest
and know me.
Would you take the time,
to help tape the seams?
Would you mend,
the fragility of my soul?
It tears and rips,
easily, emotionally.

I’m thankful for this past year,
It taught me to calm down;
Loosen up a bit.

I’m thankful for those that hurt me,
You taught me forgiveness,
And gave me a wake-up call.

I’m thankful for my ability to change;
To become more social.
Otherwise life would have been hell.

I’m thankful for the life I’ve lived,
The progress I’ve made,
And the luck I have had.

spending my days
in between the sheets
peeking out at the sky as it speaks
one deep sigh
i watch as it shifts
from night time
to day time
flicking through the shades of blue
mixing together, painting a solemn hue
i hardly notice that time has gone by
until the new day arrives
sitting all alone
wasting all my time

So what is there left
for me to get excited
about anymore?

3:55 PM
26/11/20

Read me, Hear me.
I am existing somewhere
Strewn between each letter that
Your eyes caress.
I'm mingling with the meaning
I've chosen to impart
With riddles, with metaphors,
With everything but
The truth.

I'm tangible.
Whisper my writing and know
That I am a scrawled sentence
Of desperation;
A Vagrant, caught wandering
In the downpour
Without the language
To capture the way
The rain smells, or the wind tastes
Or the earth sounds.

Oh read, and know
That I am crying out
Along each line to the seraph
Of a letter that I've struggled with
To grant a modicum
Of the nonsense left in my heart.
I've cried out
Thousands of words;
Screamed them until they furrowed
In paper, in computer screens
Into the faces of hapless lovers
To no such avail.

At the end of the day, read and know
That my writing is as futile
As loving a dead man,
An errant, wandering heart,
And a depth-less, angry river.