10/20

These days I find it hard to write
These nights I find it hard to sleep
These moments tend to get lost to nostalgia
And these memories are elusive
dare say im.... Stuck.
Between what it should be
And what it is
Between where I am
And where I been
And above all else if that ain't enough, I gotta figure out where I'm even trynna be.
God!
and let's not get on God like
These days I find it hard to kneel
These nights are no more talking to you
These moments I can't say you are there
And the more I think about it,
These memories change daily

I talk to myself alot.
I cry often
And in a room full of people I have a knack for slipping through cracks like rain water on old sheds.
My bed is unkept and nowadays i go to sleep with nothing but regrets.
This is me
As naked as a new born,
I wish there was skin I could put on for my coldest of thoughts.
I wish my brother knew my heart so that when I didn't come around he understood I was Drowning.
I wish I had to balls to tell him and not this pen with blood thicker than ink spilled
the massacre is all the same.
I wish I had someone other than myself to blame...

I hurt myself sometimes, unintentionally.
Some days there's pain but other days I don't feel a thing.
Like waves in water, outward vibrations clank on my bones letting me know they are hollow.
Letting me know I am here.
The peace within my gruesome tales seems to be the only thing that's real.
I wish I could tend to my own sanity void of substance
Maybe then I wouldn't be such a masochist.
But how else should one know life without pain?