life got put
on the standstill
and suddenly,
i can’t spill,
priorities change,
my words don’t
come out the same,
but as i take my time
away from the game,
i see how much
has changed,
the progress i’ve made,
poetry saved me,
inspired me to change,
i don’t drop
like i once did,
but i’m in a better place
than i was then.
i walked
through the flames
and lost a lot
on the way,
people came and went,
some i thought
i couldn’t live without,
i’d learn to doubt,
and i turned cynical,
saw through the sheen
and witness the difficult,
i know i’m not spitting
like when 2018 matt
was livid
with the written word,
spiraled and tried
to make his feelings viral,
a constant tidal wave
of pain and self-hate
that i couldn’t escape.
but now i’ve made it.
found my inner peace
and comfort,
i suffered before,
but like cudi,
i’m reborn,
and i’m moving towards
a place of ease,
somewhere i’m meant
to be,
gave myself time
to breathe,
and while anxiety
doesn’t fully cease,
it’s nice to control
and have a reprieve.
even if the poetry
takes a leave,
it’ll come back,
and i’ll always
have it with me,
because a writer
never sleeps.
23.
