Fate lays where it fell, throwing rocks in a stone house.
My dad sat me down and said, "doesn't everything always work out?"
I gave up on wanting to understand, and focused more on living.
I gave up on drinking, it just seems too much like drowning.
It's the principle, no sense in hiding.
And if it's dark enough, it seems inviting.
Past the knife fights and broken streetlights, there is a comfort, in a cold sunrise.
In spite of bleeding knees, and harsh formalities, there is a trust in overgrown mint leaves.
Under the overpass, in all the shattered glass, there is a peace in nights spent sleepless.
There are needles, and hateful people. But still benevolence to pick up the pieces.
On dirty brick roads and in burnt down homes, there is a promise a sick of hope.
released November 16, 2014
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