December (2019)

Maybe it’s a gut punch

Nauseous

Mornings

Hidden

evenings

Do you even taste victory ?

Thorn in my side –

I don’t look for permanence

I don’t look for needle & thread to bring about some kind of strand for hope

I fight to live

My best life

Every day

I play the cards I’ve been dealt

Like it’s the ones I wanted

—–

Gut punch

Hand down my throat

Just to find release

I can’t even sleep

—-

I’ve changed…

—-

Dark earth

I can feel myself getting bad again…

The heart breaks

And it leaves its shadowed scar over my skin…

I wake up and for a moment

I’m cut open again

All of my pain

The flame

Is burning in my gut again

I close my eyes

And my breath is short

My throat is dry

And I’m held down

Swallowing the tube again

Pump this broken heart

Cut it out

I don’t want this

Take this from me

—-

Gut punch

You start to live with purpose and intention

I’m not supposed to even be here…

you hold to things loosely

So you continue to grow…

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