I felt alive for a while,
and it made me scared,
scratching my eyes awake
each melting morning.
I felt lost for a listen,
butchered in songs
about Bison but
never remembered.
I felt stupid
and silly,
because cast aways
feel that way.
I felt north,
counting porch hours
for two years,
yet still here, 2017.
I felt why,
with big bold
question marks
disguised.
I felt alive for a while,
and it made me scared,
so I sabotaged everything
and it's my fault.
I still feel alive,
and I hope you
read this poem,
because I think it is important.