The Reformation

I became a poet
the night I didn’t die
that long fuckin night
smothered guilt
suffocated shame

unaccountable years
pills and dead prayers
Hollywood
broken neon bulbs
a lost darling
sinning
a beggar
faux reality

loved everyone
hated everything
a fallen angel
ripped jeans
a tarnished borrowed halo
diseased dreams
virtuous nightmares

rumours
numerous nightclubs
retching in Ubers
alone
not alone
wasted
worn
amused
passing life
passing death

ten cities on the left
two worlds
recurrent retching
reality
pills and dead psalms
prophetic
reassigned
rehab
depression

lost in the real world
barefoot

I found words
poetry
misfits
I found poets
pity
redemption
peace
I found my tribe

I became a poet
the night I didn’t die

 
Photo Credit: Julian Boed Flickr via Compfight cc

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