A Years Time

 Heaviness

rested

in my organs

that made

my breathing

skip like

a game

of hopscotch

on a hot

July day. 

Misbelief 

mirrored a

blackjack table

at 3am in

Las Vegas. 

Gambling

on the promises

of a fruit stand. 

Searching 

for a way

out of the

smell of 

pizza promises 

and 

gaslighting beams.

Searching

for a break in

the net while 

singing submission

to all that 

my eyes had

witnessed. 

Detaching from

a cult, 

my hazel eyes

full of hurt

holding on

until the bets

were taken.

Moving my

chips

to an

"all in"

state.

The mix of 

green plastic 

turf and

fragile air

pushed me

out the

metal doors.

In a years

time,

healing 

wrapped up

in a cotton

blanket 

of humanity and

purity 

was my

gift.