I dont know how
to feel anymore.
no blurry love hallucinations
toxin laced friendship.
i try to re-wedd the word
recovery.
names of old
planters pinned to past
memories.
i've been given a reason
to recover from
the toxic waste
that cased my body for the
past year.
to withhold
the torture
of hot objects to
finger tips
for not losing
more then two
pounds this week.
i sit in abandoned train carts
dirt covered side walk curbs
a dart lit by another
light laughter sings
with the wind.
i sit with the people
who make me feel
no longer alone.
no longer alone with
hazy held nightmares
and the white static
the only sound that
teethered to the warm
summer air at night.
but last night while
counting the cigarettes
left in my pack.
a sound i havent heard
in so long renders me
speechless.
silence carrys through
that was the night i last
cried my tears of
being left behind alone
in the drug house
of coke heads and
in the hallways of my
elementry school
when white static filled
the room of empty desks.
i like to say thanks
to the peoples
who made me smile again.
amd making me less
of a toxic mess.
10:51 pm
its shit but so am i so..
there was a drive by shooting in my town by two boys i go to school with and their both arrested now and being trialed as adults and their only fifteen, way to throw away your lifes guys.
YOU ARE READING
altercation of self-actualization《poetry
Poetryal•ter•ca•tion noun 1. a noisy argument or disagreement espically in public self-ac•tu•al•i•za•tion noun 1. the realization or fulfilment of ones talents and potentialities, espically conisdered as a drive or need present in everyone
