Here I am again

shackled to the tile

handcuffed to regret

and married to denial.

Here I am again

bandaged head to toe

hidden under cotton crypts

so no one has to know.

Here I am again

head between my knees

prayers to stars I'll never kiss

helpless to the breeze.

Here I am again

a frayed string clipped by fate

so far from where I began

that I've forgot my name.

Here I am again

at a table, on a bench

familiar faces unaware 

that this time, it's a trench.

Here I am again

sipping blood despite the drought

the only taste I had today 

was cotton-candied clouds.

Here I am again

3 months short of gold

two leaps forward, one mile backward

stabbing what I'm told.

Here I am again

and I almost hate to say

I can't outrun these voices

but I can let them decay.

For here I am again

battle painted cheeks

dressed in purple robes

and marching towards the feast.

Here I am again

believing there is more

believing I can find it if

I open the right drawer.

Here I am again

spilling ink like plumes are free,

hoping that I count as full if

bursting with empty.

Here I am again

none the wiser, not a clue

but pushing just in case 

the arms I'm reaching for are you.

Here I am again

rock bottom, some would say

but the top of the world is rock, as well

beneath the snowy banks.

Here I am again

making peace with all four walls

begging every symphony 

to let the sharp notes draw.

Here I am again

even when I want to leave

because I 

can

not

help

but

think

there might be good in me.