Tattoos, Travels, and Tidbits

We let the good things die slowly

Withdrawn I take myself out of the game

I take myself to church and pray

God rips the teeth from my mouth in a dream

I am bleeding out my mouth

I am gasping awake

Empty bed

Money problems

Nobody nearby

I ask myself to bear down

To make it moment by moment

Every breath in hurts

God tells me let go or be dragged

I’m limp

I’m unable to walk through the pain

Everyone tells me it’s for the best

But after talking it to the grave

I’m swallowing salt and crying myself to sleep

How could you be my person

And be nothing

All at once

Is this the better version of my life?

Am I really destined to be here in this space

Without you around

Talking to God and only hearing absence