Subway tracks

Wisdom doesn't come cheap .
It comes from a body spent with damages.
And the deepest wounds covered with dollarama bandages.
And dreamimg of presence through painful absences.
This journey is a constant search to reactivate my happiness.
Would it be blasphemous to ask to see God's master planner?
I use to worry about what comes after but now im worried that you sit waiting with empty answers.
I'm at my calmest during disaster.
And start to drowing when it quiets down.
Wearing my black with pride now.
And learning quietness isn't always manners.
Cause some mfs actually need to be put in their place.

And misplaced words remind me I'm not as numb to this as I thought.
So I lie and go on brave, since that's a lighter cost.
And I hide it just because.
I have no space for heavier discourse.

My face a blank slate hiding the straining weight.
Throw my screams into the crashing waves.
And let a Black Bay sunset wash the pain away.
I keep conversation for the wordpress pages.
Writing saves me from decaying.
These posts are a freeze frame.
Small vibrant moments of captured mind states.

Wrote this om the subway home from work.

Out there

Where do I find the love if everything inside me is destroyed? 
Is there any out in the world for a damaged soul like mine?
Does love reside solely in the prayers I shout into the night sky?
Was I ever the right guy or her right time?
Did my hands hold her down in the right kind of way?
There's never a day I'm happy in my own skin.
Sometimes I pray it all goes away.
Other times I push harder for a win.