After the Disaster

i lived life as a square peg when all i saw was circles i was tryna fit in. so much to say, i am all over the place-not sure where to begin-my mind races and my stomach, it flips…

                                                       After the Disaster

the clouds are low, and moving fast. i reach up to touch them, but, they are gone, it didn’t last…it’s free now, my mind, it’s wandering, free now to roam-imagination takes ahold…

my soul is no longer numb and my feet are up as they no longer feel the urge to run…

i spent millions trying not to feel in order to remain numb, living low, surviving off of crumbs. everywhere i turned, all i saw were cliques. everywhere i looked, all i saw were problems i could not fix

life was a living hell, one big downer. i lived as a gypsy does, so i was always the fucking out of towner..

sometimes, i think, alone is all i will ever be. i sit and let that marinate in my soul, i let it resonate, but i don’t think too long as i do not wanna be late…which i something i no longer wish to be as it will be Gypsy blood forever that i will bleed…

it is not the dull needle or the dirty spoon to which i turn to anymore for…i am no longer only as priviledged as a whore…

i still go days without sleep though…there was once a time, but not right now, though..i’m gonna lay here and die slow…

                                                    After the Disaster

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