These walls around me are so tall
but my nightmares persist;
an uneasy existence with myself remains
always.
The streets in my head
all wander about;
knotting together
in the wrong end of town-
but my feet stay firmly,
horribly,
helplessly
in the right.
These days of endless summer,
these days of passing worry
are enough to keep my stomach
seeped in it's own blood;
it seems to clearly know,
what I've only been able to guess at.
Each moment falls away
and the rainfall gauge creeps along;
filling, and climbing towards
nothing new,
nothing more,
nothing gained and
nothing spent.
I remember the idea of the road
the wind
the sun
the scrapes and bruises
forgetting to brush your teeth in dirty motels and
opening your eyes under the waves of a brand new coast.
Heaven exists in closed eyes
and bloody knees.
It seems my scars are fading
exactly when I want them to be raw-
pinned on medallions
of mistakes proudly made
moving towards
something,
anything.
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