When I was lost
I learned to be alone
with others.
There was comfort in numbers
to numb out the misery.
I walked lofty from meds
decoding messages in trees.
The doctor once said
the choice was up to me.
So, I kept on leaking
green thoughts to ant colonies.
Ideas carried off to an abyss
gave me too much anxiety.
I smoked packs and crushed pills
to numb out the depths of
whom I thought was me.
For year's this pervaded,
until one day I said,
Self, let's just be free.
Supposedly, these words were written from experience. They say the best writers write from experience.
Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash.
Poem by Willy Martinez, and is intended for Mind on Fire Books only.*
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