Presence of mind and a dark corner –
I wouldn’t say victim, I wouldn’t say
violence. It’s a way to live and I never said
that I didn’t have weak hands
that I didn’t drink myself to sleep
that I never lingered or wanted
eighteen months – eighteen
but I am twenty one, and it is time
and a lesson learned is a song 
that came up from my stomach
that I spent and I squandered
I am not one to talk, and I wouldn’t say
filthy, violent, victim –
obsessive and fixated 
I am who I have been for ten years
and learning a lesson was harder
than staying away, than avoidance
than prescriptions and transference
than 6:08 am and a sudden realisation


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Filed under Poetry

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