Clean skin,
formed bones,
but when I look down,
all I see are the bruises.
I am not a true poet,
could never compare the beauty of a birds first flight to my sorrows,
but I'll write these words with my body's blood and my last breaths,
even when my life's
leaking on the concrete.
These verses can't earn me a college degree, food in my stomach,
or pride in my heart
but they can keep me from
picking up that bottle and
shaking out my fate
in the form of pastel blues.
They'll support my spine,
help me stand as tall as any soldier,
give me faith in something worth a thousand tears and scars and in myself.
Leave me with light in my mind, a calm throat, and yeah, I think
this is much better