9/3/22

Sometimes I feel trapped.

Trapped in this town.

Knowing what I want but not sure how to get it, verbalizing my doubt and I know it.

Smoking a cigar with whiskey like I'll figure out something that hits me.

I'm not exactly unhappy but I feel stuck.

 No quiet place to be alone, it even feels like this in my own home

In an apartment surrounded by voices and a marsh surrounded by houses.

I want to jump on a cloud and float away, it's not the bills I have to pay, just the way it feels to feel stuck like I can't escape.

I pray over my bible so I can pray the stifiling pain away. Of feeling stuck in a city that's loud and quiet at all the wrong moments.

The trees are right and the crickets are too and so are you.

But just not here.

I've known what I want for some years, earlier than others, and it's frustrating that I can't find it right away, that I can't find it here. I want to float, I want to find you and I here.

I keep praying but it's not yet clear.