Sunday, June 12, 2016

Gush of breath (scanned notebook)

I breathe too hard this in and
out that leaves me breathless,
and empty, a balloon expired
all in one gush,
I drink too much -- sucking
it up like the proverbial
sponge -- needing a miracle
to turn water into more
wine or whiskey
I fuck too often filling
up every furrow like a
farmer does seed, scared
something might come of it,
so I hang on,
I sleep too little, scared
of the dreams that haunt
me even if I dose - those
what-if dreams where I
imagine the worst of what
might happen and wake
believing the worst did.
I cry too little and
least of all for myself,
thinking that self pity is a
crime even when deserved
we pacing the jail cells
of our own lives counting
off days to the end of a
sentence we  really do
not want to end,
if I was a praying
man - I'd pray less
for salvation than the
belief I can be saved,
a small blessing
God has yet to grant me

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