it’s hard to make things make sense
and i try not to vent
when i see pens and papers;
my friends,
my saviors.
-
i see nothing else,
i see only what’s sense-less
and
i saw nothing since this
journey to nowhere began.
this race that im running has ran
out of time and energy.
no pride so
no enemy,
no threat to my entity...
-
what exists isn’t critical.
one may seem too
individual.
when i look up at my visual
i see hope
and i see stars.
i see broken,
i see scars.
-
may your heart heal,
may you act as you feel
while being genuine
what’s real
will reveal.
