a poem.
title sucks.
and if i still owe you... leave a reminder.
i should be getting back into the swing of things with critting from now on.

A soul seeking appleseed
had stolen my youth from me.
We parted with the words
"I'll see you in the ground"
I'd pulled that from my pocket
full of vile and vague speech,
where I keep all of my secrets
on the very shortest leash.
Contortion was not my strong suit,
but I was ready for the feat.
I tilted back and swallowed whole
a mix of lust and principles,
of photographs and virgin eyes
raised on "other ways" to satisfy.
That made me the man I am today,
juggling with knives
while tightly holding faith.