about how i’ve come to be here
about how i’ve come to be;

staring face-first into a
gravel-pit—both physically
and spiritually—of my own
making—both literal and not

thinking: why is this the hour?
why is this the elixir? why is this
what it takes to come alive?

30’s knocking on the door—

a cold
     hard
          clock

and i’m not the boy i used to be
nor the man i want to

the girl i love most is gone for days
hundreds of miles away
and i love to think of her
but i’m trying not to think

my teeth are rusted, rotting,
my tongue tastes dizzy, and it’s time
to start anew

(don’t let the screen rule your being)

(make it a better tomorrow, even if only for today)