Im currently doing my best to listen to my inner voice.

but do I trust it ?

or do I hearken on all the distractions?

its ben about 3yrs and whatever form of grief that disappointments have left me in, is 2 steps from a tragedy.

1 may assume that I know enough about myself and life in general, to prevent from making such scars, almost impossible to remove. Smh.

Ive left fluids and blood stains in multiple dimensions, offering my services, something like a constable or what my friends used to label as a urban angel, a north star. Many different hats I’ve worn. Im now sporting an invisible hard hat, like a wounded soldier. But Alhamdullilah.

Whats my new stradegy out of this mess, without feeling desperate or criminal minded. Sometimes I look in the mirror and see my eyes as broken glass…my family gets an unreadable soul, because at times I feel my spirit fleeting.

The convolution feels inherited and builds a hemorrhage like mucus from shoulder to shoulder. What arrow was I shot with?, What elegant poker game did I play?…that left me ina army barrack or pram like reality.

I watch and I wander thru life, wondering alot but still knowing that truth can set us free, and free isnt a notion so, I play my trumpet boldly with no technique, because I want to live again.