An old poem of mine that I recently rediscovered while cleaning my room.

Maybe they’re hard to tame because

they’re invisible

I feel them living in me

On me like a bad itch

in a difficult place

I want to pick them off

like fingernails

But my brain is an

addict

and my heart thinks they’re

important

A sickness I wish I was immune to

It happened fast

He buried them in me

Multiplied like disease in a

third world country

throughout my open body

I knew it and I let it be; I let the present be the present

and I could read the future like the alphabet

Disguised themselves as water

soon after I broke away from shore

Sometimes they wear ink

in a book, like this

Used to be present in my voice; rarely anymore

That’s dangerous

I want to set them free, back into the wild nights

where they came from

They’ve stumbled upon the wrong person, me

All over

On top of

Inside

Everywhere

Feelings.

That I don’t want, that were taken back

Rented

like a tuxedo that made him look good

Used for a few fun nights

But I understand

and fade