8.24.17
sometimes i feel lost.
i understand how punk that sounds,
but it's true.
i don't know where to go,
or if i should go anywhere,
or where i even am to begin with,
but you will always help me find my way.
you're my new teacher:
silent but forgiving and helpful.
you're my therapist without a degree
and the butler that will sweep all the skeletons out of my closet.
you, atlas, are my map.
thank you for being there for me.
yours truly,
AJMC
YOU ARE READING
the beekeeper.
PoetryVent Poetry Warning: Strong language Trigger warnings: Schizophrenia Self Harm Abuse (physical, verbal, and sexual) Gore
