It will always be me
The sharp air will always bruise my knuckles
Dry my throat
Chap my vessels
I will always be singing hoarse next to a frozen person playing guitar
Hoping for seven dollars.
It will always be me
Walking half sane alone down any slowly curving road
Listening
Three months gets me an iPod
Playing music that makes me feel vindicated
Sounds that penetrate my reason
It will always be me
Dreaming of, still, and hating
The cozy false comforts of abuse
Whatever kind.
It's not what I will ever be
But it will always be me
It will always.
