crash.

cracked windshields

and blood stained t-shirts

manufactured landscapes

with fake man-made

sunlight

we have a number

and a story

before we're old enough

to even read them

we're breathing poison

inhaling it

eating it

drinking it

seeing it

and hearing it

innocence has never

been an option

for any of us

papers with numbers

and deadlines

reminding us

that we'll never be free

and as our skin wrinkles

and our dreams fade

nothing will ever have

that new smell again

statements and forms

with official stamps

from the beginning

to the end

our birth

and death certificates

will bookend our lives

after working all day

on my feet in worn out shoes

i realized that i have developed

a slight limp

as i walk into the house

perhaps i never noticed

because in my head

i've had that limp

for years

...

vertigo.

i'm falling in slow motion

and no one can catch me

and it's fine

losing my breath

and losing my

confidence

and i've been losing my mind

for a long time now

nothing but secondhand air

because i can't afford

anything new anymore

i can look you in the eyes

but i'm not the alpha

i once was

so it hurts a bit more

as i break mine

and stare at the floor

wondering how i ever

made it this far

or if it matters at all

i thought i knew better

but perhaps

i've never known

i live with the consequences

of my conscience

every minute

of every day

there is nowhere

to run and hide

and this place i'm in

is killing me

this is the price

of loving

of caring

of making mistakes

and sometimes

it's just not ok

...