dealing

grace, i needed grace
she smelled sweet of
blueberries and vanilla
shaking rainsoaked
i stood before her
with hand fulls of
the stars collected
in insomnia she
cured, and dulled
the sharp pangs
of my regret

i was trying to sound out
the past few months
make sense of what
i gave up and gave in to
watching dolls run around
pretending they have shit down
trying to site hypocritical resources
she would become only a faded sketch
outlined red and scribbled blue
despite what you think you know
the first verse isn't for you