Whatever we heard happened to people

happened to us.

The years, they take time, and sweat, and hurt.

People are damaged and damaged they love,

there is a difference between pain and amok.

People are damaged and damaged they love.

Some cause more damage,

others tie knots at the end of the rope.

Some love effortlessly

and the damage is no more.

Others bury their heads in the sand

once they’ve reached a shore.

Whatever they heard happened to us

     happened indeed.

The growth, it takes blood, and guts, and soul.

People build mountains, walls of their enemies.

The truth is always relative.

Some stay behind the walls,

and let out violent squalls.

Others can see it all from afar.

Oh, the night casts beautiful shadows.

Some lose battles

and some battles are meant to be lost.

Others are ripped apart in half

and gamble with the half of what they are not.

                                                                                                     December 2020

Now I stand

where I once knelt.

And after every misstep I forge anew my shield.

 

There is so much more to be lived,

yet too much to be left behind.

Been trying to keep an open mind,

but the end of the rope makes one blind.

 

The night slips on the corner of your eye

and the cold makes you look wise.

But you made me what I am not

and the feel of the bottom I never forgot.

 

We build walls to create new places

and keep ourselves busy inside these empty spaces.

The truth has always beaten your aces

I’ll never be right where you want me, erase me.

 

December 2019

 

Many things have ended for me, I’m done. Things like fighting for what is right or trying to fight and win over my demons. Things like speaking in the correct tense and trying to find some sense. Many things have ended for me in the cold evenings and had begun again in the even colder mornings. Seasons have changed and I am below the lowest I had ever gotten. It ain’t right. I’ve held my head high and I’ve been down in the dirt, in the mud. My moods have varied so much that I have destroyed relations with people. I’ve written so many words that I can’t remember them all. I’ve read so many words yet the white paper is the most sincere thing that exists. I’ve heard so many words that I’ve stopped listening. I’ve cared so much that I’ve ruined my inner self. I’ve blamed so much that I am to blame. I’ve seen so little of the world yet it feels like too much. I’ve tasted the madness now I want the touch

of gold.

October 18, 2016