Crazy in a Half
For the longest time,
I was terrified of Crazy,
watching her leach the life
out of so many,
sucking them dry
so that they concaved
like emptied juice boxes,
I dreaded the day when
she would suck me dry,
now that I'm moving over 6,000 miles away
from the culture that sheltered me,
language that brimmed my lungs
with music,
people that engraved their initials
in my flesh,
people keep introducing me to Crazy,
as if she were a stranger to me,
but Crazy is a companion,
lyrics in my song
that I have embraced,
I admire this wild abandon,
this passionate twinkle of insanity,
untamed by fear,
unbridled by propriety,
I love the more-than-crazy,
this tidal wave of crazy-in-a-half
crashing, booming
against my shores
that can build bridges,
that cleaves through
stone and mountain,
splinters hours, minutes, seconds.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Us Gray: Part 2
Poetry(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!) Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief. Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew. This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand nar...
