Vent

To the page I come to vent to make

sense to prevent me from combusting.

I feel like shouting prayers to the most

high who knows me better than I.

Forever changing and rearranging

to prepare for what is to come.

So, I run to the light to keep

sight of the path for me.

But darkness comes and I

no longer circle the sun.

Only to fall in love with the night.

Meeting the moon in its many phases.

But my heart is heavy, my body lonely,

I feel like a mess I am working

through the madness.

God walk with me.


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