Start the day with a bunch of likes,
A group of thumbs in my ‘hopeless little screen.’
I no longer build my aspirations
Off of the weather,
And the cancer in my soles,
Doesn’t stop me from climbing cliffs
And conquering urges…
Shall we say, innately insane…?
Hopelessly romantic on the page…?
Practice and perhaps pain
Made me poetic over the years,
Love only made me a better person,
And I no longer build my aspirations
Off of the weather.