unearthed words

Early this morn I unearthed words

from thirty-three years ago

gazed in wonder as I wandered

through lines of rhymes

back when I was grasping for

meaning to define

just what life had thrown

like confetti.

As I touched the paper

flames shot up where I had misspelled

cruel pleasures

such a terrible waste of time

some in winter, mostly summer nights

when moonlight

lit the path to self destruction.

Now I’m curious if my pockets

were lined with stolen hearts

if I used a chalkboard to keep track

of how much it truly cost

to be so lost.

burn baby burn

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