staring at a cloudy sky
a days a month as it passes by
the brains on fire but feels no pain
the legs can walk, but the soul is lame
the words won’t write, the keys are stuck
the pendulums trapped on the wrong side of luck
whispers and voices, monologues in my head
reciting Poe’s and Shakespeare’s and others, dead
epilepsy in the hands
fingers like broken rubber bands
slivers of tears cutting lines in my skin
I forgot the story, where did it begin?
staring at the evening haze
walking through a dazey maze
figuring numbers by tapping my teeth
wandering the hallways of the Schools of Belief
ditching the classes, for good reason I’m sure
leaving Heaven for a living tour
forgetting I’m breathing, and I jump in the sea
is death the only one who can set me free?
The stars shoot across the shore
and I knock twice on God’s cottage door
He throws it open as though He’s mad
then looks at me, his expression sad
and I spread my arms and He waves me in
“Welcome Home” He says again.
And He sits with me, late through the Time
we drink gallons of stories, each saltwater brine
until, too tired, I fall asleep
He never leaves, what a loyal streak…
and with a blanket like a cloudy sky
with a silent nights muted cry
He waits for me to awake to Him
to heal, to live, to forgive and sin
He waits for me, to this day
always close, never far away.

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