Live

poem by: Braverman Waltz
Written on Feb 08, 2017

The wind blows warm air here the night faces south and the day hides behind it's darkest light,I'm slipping again worried that I might fall between the cracks unnoticed unwanted uncared for like flint or dust a needle in the hay stack except no ones looking for it,too tired anyway to care had enough change the channel clip the ticket replace the bulb take out the trash.....close the door it's too bloody cold.mine is not mine anymore passion got away and took talent and success with her these shoes have no soul left the jacket I havent worn for years and my bycicle is miss spelt I keep getting my hair cut by a Korean Christian and my case worker kicked me outta class,on a Friday, and that was only the beginning the weekend was filled with plastic belivers scampering up  crosses  ants dressed in cottin and woman seated around a table asking me questions i knew the answers to i was lost in protest yet my words were my only company and I was bored,again.I see nothing with the lights on I hear everything through headphones my television when on speaks to me and I keep getting calls from an organization selling binary options,am I  my mind no!!! I keep finding it,am I going insane yes.I have a poster in my room of an angel looking up I have bags stacked up on top of eachother my bed is alone my fan is electric my guitar quiet my space invaded and I write not to express but to connect,this story is a folded one it's not to be Placed on a shelf but in one there are no pages only a beginning there is no end just experience it and you'll find out....when you finish leave a donation your gonna need it.why has nothing left to say,truth stands to applause hope waits Paitently,for the last train and love well love...sent me a txt and I replied with a call and made her cry I then ran out of credit and that was that.I'm not here to complain I did that already in the womb Im here to live so someone please send me the manual cause if you don't I might just escape.

 

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