we all have a home
some, just can’t hear it’s call
just can’t feel it’s hold
my home strangles me with the rope of poetry
noose as tight as the rhymes it loops in the mind of me
in between the sides of me
back and forth grinding down the meat of me
taking out my feet from me
swept up and into the fingers of trees
blown and breast fed to the eastern seas
my home is inside of me
it’s always been
i was just too full of shit to see
not now
not that he’s gone and taken that part of me
the veil that whilst kept me blind
also kept me warm
now naked and exposed in entirety
W.E.
lonerloaner 