It is when I listen to my thoughts.
That I wonder what doesnt fit.
It is when I stop and take in.
A bite out of a piece of sh*t.
A vile Cay and a wicked Moo.
I’ve been called all of it.
So when I stop and make new thoughts.
I’ll stop and pick out the pits.
The seedy center that lost it’s way.
The part that hides in flesh.
The speedy wretched racing heart.
Hired a liar to get past the net.
It’s only when I do the work.
To look myself in the mirror.
It’s when I see that I still have shadows.
And stear them away to be clearer.
