one day i'm gonna lose the war.

drunken times.
lipstick. camping. nearly going to jail.
taking a ten-day break from work.
awkward moments, amazing times.
sinking into her lips
bruises, burnmarks, bleeding skin.
an unexpected letter from people i didn't expect to hear from, making my day
throwing out the pain, breaking through the barrier i thought i'd never get past
nice to be able to say i'm not miserable
happy, maybe
chainsmoking, starting fires
the smell of leaving the city far behind
bad whiskey, three sleepless months
feeling vulnerable,
feeling powerful
feeling alive as i shake myself from the clutches of the walking dead
submerging my body in icy water,
burned feet on steaming blacktop
always moving, always going
not to survive or forget this time
-but because i think somewhere down the road i forgot how to have a good one
-to smile and let life unfurl as it may
my life becomes my therapy
time begins to pass as it should again.
and, as with anything, there are those who would wish for it to not be this way
whether by circumstance, feeling, worry
but i have survived: surfaced once again
and all i've done is what i had to do to do so
sometimes these feet tread where they weren't intended
trampled grass regrows
scorched forests thrive and beautify in time
such are things for me as for you
and so we change now, from fragment to lucidity
staccato to legato
where accents are implied and the spurs digging in flankside begin to lessen their torturous drive
the heat stifles; the body reacts; sweat beads on my browned face
tilt my head back to the wall
take a deep drag
--and somebody spoke and i went into a dream