42.

It can be ten days clean
to bloodied knuckles
I think I’m not mean
until self-control buckles

I have not changed at all
yet long to be born again
to learn to walk, to crawl
and bless my own clean hands

Even if I change, I will not be pure
and my hands are scarred
from walls I broke before

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “42.

  1. septembersrose

    This imagery is very powerful

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