Lord, I don’t understand, but I know you`re good. I don`t understand, but I know you have a purpose for letting this happen. Great things are bound to happen. Amen.

This Is Not A Poem.

This was supposed to be a poem. Nothing is coming together in my head. At least, not the way I want it to. I. Am. Confused. Confused about what I know. The knowledge of life that has been slowly dripping down on my head seeping through my scalp and saturating my brain is only adding on to the “to-do” pile. Life is complex simplicities. Risking your death just to live. Just to be. Interesting how rushing quickly becomes routine. From scraping your gums to shreds when you wake. To inhaling things that only your toilet can pronounce. Why. Can’t. I. Control my emotions? Understand them? This feeling is feeling something I’ve never felt. This was supposed to be a poem but, nothing is coming together the way I want it to. Maybe, maybe this isn’t about what I want. What I think I should have because it feels good in my hands. Maybe this, maybe this is what I need. What will fill voids that were leaking parts of me I couldn’t see. Pieces of me that were carefully picked up and placed where they belonged. 

This was supposed to be a poem. If you don’t mind though, tonight… it’ll just be me.