split ends

A penny for my thoughts they gave

so I volunteered my insides.

A fortune for my disaster they offered

and I could but resist.

 

If quitters never win, then why am I here?

Down memory lane I recall

Nothing, but blue skies. Rainbows and butterflies.

But the photographs show gravelly pits, drenching misery

 

Demons that surround

don’t instill concern. They aren’t the titans they used to be.

blood stained promises, forked tongues.

Everything I’m not- close is close enough.

 

Rough wrists, scars on the ankles

on the hearts –

of heroes, warriors, kids.

 

Pictures I never took show

The picturesque melancholy of life.

 

Take what you get.

Get what you can.

Give nothing back.