lost my mind in Brooklyn

dsc_0720[1]
@snapshotsteve


think i lost my mind in Brooklyn,
learned that people can’t be saved.
saw some pictures of my father
that i know i can’t erase.
entry wounds and exit wounds,
his skin a tint of teal.
felt my face pour down my shirt
before my brain knew what to feel.

i’ve got concrete for my skin,
traffic cones for my bones.
the blood that’s running through me
is the train ride going home.

think i lost my mind in Brooklyn,
got too used to feeling lonely.
watched my family do the splits.
piss drunk, last stop, woke in Coney.
last night’s vomit on my shit,
morning crust up on my face,
checked my pockets, all was there.
headed back to my aunt’s place.

i’ve got concrete for my skin,
traffic cones for my bones.
the blood that’s running through me
is the train ride going home.

think i lost my mind in Brooklyn,
i had voices in my head.
every day i’d say good morning
to my uncle, now he’s dead.
two years before, his brother died.
it was tragic, so i’ve heard.
i’ve got angels all around me,
but a bird is just a bird.

i’ve got concrete for my skin,
traffic cones for my bones.
the blood that’s running through me
is the train ride going home.

“lost my mind in Brooklyn”
©Steven Cuenca

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s