Thursday, February 16, 2017

I reread your letter today.

"Keep up the good work-
-you really should publish."
But I've been working all night
and my body gets reckless.
As I spit towards the sky,
not understanding my successes,
I wish someone would stop me
and tell me I'm above this.
But I suffer below it,
and the evidence I dismiss.
I wish the Bible had been a guide
to actual bliss.
Instead lying and trying
just to convince,
I wish it had been about love,
I got nothing to fix.

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