A choice made as I rode in cars with demons, which in their haunting, offered sense.
Too much blame
is placed on me
while the lost
take another drink.
You call me love.
Held me as I dismantled my world
as I achingly pieced myself
My path has changed more times than I can count and I have fallen down just as many.
Crouched behind hallways paved in stone.
Guards hold vigil at every gate that leads to your door.
In some other cosmic shooting of our words and tangible meshing of our tongues.
I thought I was listening
or maybe the angels didn’t speak loud enough
or my ridges were
far too rough.