I got a passport that expired without stamps. I ghosted a single mom who wore a leotard under her clothes. I made my mistakes. I learned what love requires.

I desired to make love

I crossed borders without IDs and placed flowers on graves in Mexico.

I impulsively created art

I dated artists. I made up for things I missed out on in high school. I tried to understand what I missed out on in the military. I sat with friends while they were drunk and violent still stuck in a war they couldn’t describe. He snored in my passenger seat, an unsheathed Ka-Bar in his lap. I waited with him. I tried to put my feelings down in words. I told my truth.

I layered the canon over current events and switched the positions of the oppressed and the oppressor.

I struggled to retain my humanity

within the current cultural storm. I became engulfed by lies. Torture had been promoted and made legal. Some people defended their actions by claiming they were inspired by popular t.v. shows. It comes from the top down.

I watched less t.v.

I watched more porn

I wrote poems. I wrote parodies of pop songs. I dreamed of re-enlisting. I moved every three months. Twice I went hiking into the wilderness only to turn back fearing what I was chasing. More times I pushed forward.