That’s just not me

That’s just not me

I miss cigarettes, alcohol
and caffeine in my tea
Miss twenty-one in Heidelberg
But that wasn’t any more me
than this is.

I miss crazed walks and jagged thoughts
on ninety-nine cent parchment
Miss twenty-four in Bochum town
But that wasn’t any kind
of any kind
of me.

Had I all along known and felt
how dull and drear toss and scratch
had me know, feel, and be!
But there’s no insight
inside a spun-out scheme.

I can’t go back and meet my wife
and gawk and flinch as we sink
into our wiser grown-up life.
But that’s the only way
I’ll ever be me.

I can’t go back and accept myself
as another man in need of her
and the world they piecemeal weave.
But there’s the only place
I might be me.

The lonesome stands, the empty cries —
those half-hearted, unkempt crimes
got out of hand, skipped a rail
and left us here in Candyland
panting and alone.

He isn’t me
I tell you!
This man
that I’ve become.
It isn’t mine!
I plead you!
This soul
I’m wrapped around.

Help me ditch these rags
loose these chains
Help me be

Author: BW
Editor: AW
Copyright: AMW

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