I feel stuck, sometimes
Bewteen the screen and the road
and my spiraling thoughts.
And weak, sometimes,
When I let them drink me in and drown my
chest in pain, riddled with bullets
I've never felt.
Not a day in this life
Was not filled with blessings like knives
Double-edged they rack me in sour
Tangs of guilt at the same time they burn
Goodness through my skin.
All of a sudden I'm seeing
My city with new eyes, all of a sudden feeling
Everyone around me in new light; or sometimes
Myself, in a new darkness looking out -
it doesn't quite feel right.