Homeless Theories (embitterment)

I write less–

Never really having the energy–being exhausted by panic attacks

That’s what i spend this useless time on

Drawing blanks to conclusions–as all of those thoughts sit with panic while jumping to conclusions

I sit on the ground–this bum of mine

Sometimes i lay

in the exhaustion, hoping to remember every word –say,

In order as the passers by with day

Now igniting these cigars to cloud judgement–once so hard to find

This grounding

–this bum–o’mine?

I sit with all of these mixed decisions

Without thought to define….

–“Whatever the fuck it is”–

“I would believe they call that, homeless”, bummer.

Mitchell, Tierra (AE)

“Save yourself.”

Published by Alpha’s Poetry notes

I am what is considered to be a starving artist; support my vision, my dream to be free with a like and/or comment. #Sharedemo

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