My life is full of shit. No bouquets of roses. No constellations in my head. My hands are rough, my hair is a mess. I am, underconstruction with a signage wreacked by regrets. I’m not calm, I overthink, thinking sideways, up, ahead.
& do I deserve this? Probably not.
But ahh, I let the stars halt me to a knot. Until I develop thorns and weeds are growing in my pocket. Until the wild plants invade the hole in my socket. But look, I cough petals inside my closet.
Because like I said...
My life is full of shit, & here’s to darker days that I once wished to be miracles, oh heaven come flay me, I’m all set, let me free.