Passenger

Places people and things
Don’t mean anything
if you allow it all back in
whenever it can
Talking with no walking,
Words and lip service and derailed again
My mind a sieve, walked on by myself, makes no sense
Somehow I thought I had this licked
Still the pariah, with the wounds and pricks
The past careening into my neck
At break neck speed snapped me back into my seat
Flung me out in the street
Roadkill and rubber neck
Trampled under foot from all those who wished me dead
It was a bitter pill to choke down
I wish there was more of a warning this time
I relied on you and I don’t know why?
All this love to give, my expectation that you would just bandage me up.
Band aids on a twelve inch cut,
Seriously fucked
Bled out, strip search
And I’d say something like “this will be the last time”,
but I’ve learned enough
call my own bullshit and let the past creep
back in…
to take over
yet again.