Photo by Lily Banse on Unsplash

Tuesday, December 3, 2019

I’m not enough for my greatest being’s gifts.

The people would rather wish me well, than help me prevail.

The desire to succeed is the bullet to my foot.

I ask self, “are we happy lonely?”

Is dog soft enough; for the holiday nights we get cozy…

No one hears my cries.

I know I am not that.

It’s how deep my emotions spell.

I know I am not that.

A hole in the world—almonds for autocorrect did that.

A dream it breathes abundantly around me.

A dream for it streams walking beneath my feet.

A dream for I can smell it as we eat.

A dream for the touch is on repeat.

A dream for flutes eases my thoughts of you.

Faith in a dream I see but yet to you.

I think flow; for the steaks are soft and tender for chew.

I hurt but it’s not my view.

I wrote a book to inspire today’s you.

You are not your pain.

Look up a new angel awaits you.

You must first breathe and turn to page two.

-Budd