The rain is so plain- sometimes.
Simplicity is necessary.
Warm and lucid thoughts tickle and spin-
and it is good, like sunshine on my face.
I sit outside and let it cleanse the street grime.
I came to blows with who I was becoming.
The scrap was perpetual- until now.
So, I leave all of my yesterdays and live for now.
I will withdraw the truth of personal growth,
and wear it inside my skin. Like a gold star.
I pick my scabs to watch my scars.
I watch the sky and see where my feet go.
I don’t mind the brussel sprouts anymore-
maybe because I don’t have to.
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