I came like thunder

by Ralkkai

I came to this town
with the clothes on my back,
an old suitcase
and a partially used bus ticket.

That was three years ago.

I came to this town
a washed up poet;
no more words to stamp on paper.
But who cares?
No one ever cared about the sufferers of now,
only the greats:
Poe, Ginsberg, Whitman, Cummings.
There is nothing left in the words.

I came to this town
in the bottom of a bottle
with young crow’s feet at the corners of my eyes.
I smoked so many cigarettes
and took so many pills,
I was hungover.

I came with broken teeth
and rusty screams
and a shallow heart
and a swallowed pride.

That was three years ago.

My heart was agnostic
and my dreams were someone  else’s.

Someone else’s,
someone greater than the shell I had become.

I came to this town with no direction at all.
but
I came like thunder.

I’m trying, sweet baby, I’m trying.

I’m further away from suicide these days
but it still hurts.

I came to this town
with the clothes on my back,
an old suitcase,
and a partially used bus ticket –
and an empire was left in my wake.

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