Acadian State:

What left do I have to give?

This isn’t the life I wanted to live.

I undress to remove the stains of yesterday,

but they are stuck in mirrored frames.

It’s all the same, and nothing matters anyways,

Forever fevered, and feeling small through it all,

When will I feel proud, or feel like standing tall?

For these thoughts of mine have left me in entombed in hospital halls,

To be or not to be, but a part of me still wants to be known, loved, and seen,

But the locusts have eaten out my silken heart,

and I don’t know how to grow.

Encased our names on this side of eternity,

A.F sung out in two parts created a harmonious sound,

but I am left silently singing the melody all alone.

This addiction of mine has left me feeling frozen in time,

As I pray upward towards the divine.

To be like the rest, to drink one or two at best,

Two alway turned into too much,

To drink to live, to drink, to feel something, to find peace.

This life lingers on and withers on symbolizing nothing,

like flowers, trees, and cement.

Brushed, passed, and stepped on without given a second thought.

I am nothing more than damaged goods,

like a busted can of campbell’s soup,

leaking out, bruised, and rolling on the floor again.

Allow me to walk through double doors with folded fists,

Do not speak, do not share, do not lean in,

for each time trust is broken again.

So i’ll turn to paper and pen, to flesh out these bloodied wounds of mine.

I will refrain my heart and leave you be,

for I am no good to you anymore,

So I’ll starve out these feelings, till I am famished,

I’ll save up some cash, so I can vanish,

for this pain acute leaves me coldly obtuse.

I wish to live secluded amongst the caribou, elk, and moose,

so that I can restart this nervous, nervous system,

But I am a slave to time.

Someday i’ll reach an Acadian state of mind,

for these old Southern dreams are slipping silently downstream,

and I am left without a paddle.