i walked a line
that was drawn for me
words were not my friend i found comfort in the arms of another
before the pen was my pillow
i needed you to find the center of a tootsie roll pop
i couldn’t rely on my own will
on my own path
on my own words
bleeding was just casual
love was always occasionally
direction was always running in after the bell rang on a monday morning with one shoe and no backpack;
always after the test was done-
always after the she found another-
always too late