Small Town Tragedies

Reflections on moving away.

Joseph M.
Joseph M.
Oct 11 · 1 min read
Photo by Holden Baxter on Unsplash

Hating yourself is easy
It’s like riding a bike
Down old avenues
In the dead of night

Wheels spinning forward
Skills on display
It’s late out
Why not ride during the day?

Sequestered living
From human eyes
Hides ugly truths
You’ve come to despise

All that you are
Birth to the grave
Is red ink on paper
Embodied shame

Fled the town
To overcast days
Our now departed
Summoned the rain

Interstate drive
Down 49
Lost control of life
Ran out of time

Head on collision
Through 18 wheels
Crushed under metal
Unable to feel

Most human emotions
Except for loss
All for a new life
That wasn’t worth the cost.

Scribe

Stories that matter. Emotion first and foremost.

Joseph M.

Written by

Joseph M.

Lost soul based out of the South. Writing on love, failure and existing without shame.

Scribe

Scribe

Stories that matter. Emotion first and foremost.

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