I have two new blisters on the feet, one on each instep. When it seems that there is no room for a scar, life insists on reminding us that the skin is our largest organ and there is always room for the consequences of our wrecks.
From my shipwrecks continued.
And my experiments in blind alleys. Of those that always yield the same anywhere.
Where I come back with encouragement along the ground and head in a storm.
War wounds and empty hands. And the weary.
Because in the end it is always the same. Because there was never easily satisfied.
settle Because I do not know complicates things. And nobody taught me to be quiet and go with the flow. And I'm not sure I wanted to learn to do that.
Not even if my feet hurt every day a little more. And my mouth begins to forget how to say I miss you too or I stay here with you all.
may simply not know it otherwise not be my way.
The way of eternal dreamers.
Of the losers.
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