Nothing and Something and Everything

Born on the banks of backseat bayous
where muddy palm prints
smeared across beer breath tinted windows,
      and the way fish
      are always bitin' when it's rainin'
                - is really nothing new

Born in backwoods off back roads
where the bruises from a bible belt whoopin'
welts gapped thighs
like a relief map headed in the direction of
anywhere but here,
      and the same people
      who pray with you, prey on you.
                - but that's nothing new

Born from backsliding into the depths
of the same ol' trash barrel bonfires,
bellying the rocky bottoms,
and clawing
and crawling
a way out
      Born from walking away.
      Born from running away.
      Born from not looking back.
              - that's something new.