Energy

Some days seem so lonely

A plea for help written in sharpie

An open umbrella in the pouring rain

But not a soul underneath

Two lovers under a bridge

Trying to patch an eternity with tape

I stand in the middle of a crowded room

So many stories, so much pain

So many words I could write again and again

I’m no model, no perfect course

I’ve run aground, caused mischief

Been nothing short of a forsaken witness

But I look at the stripes in my hands

And feel the welts on my heart

I realize I am still breathing, blood pumping

Somehow, somewhere, I’m being furnished

And financed by a body I cannot reproduce

Even in the height of poetic ecstasy

I fall short in detailing the energy fueling me

I want to hold it so close, and hold it

In my hands, to display it to the world

And the one I wish to love

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