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This poem is sort of a call and response between me, and well... me. It's sort of a battle of wits between my emotional self, and the self that I aspire to be.

You and Me Kid

10600587_10204764587811044_3323353174422219428_nby Devin Mitchell Durbin29 Nov 2014

Why do you get so worked up my friend,
the world isn't going to end.

You say that don't you, but what do you know;
the world could end in an instant,

but that's not necessarily true, dude.
I can't make promises, but this is how the world works.

Who do you think you are,
telling me how the world works
and how this life has got to be.

I'm your friend, not your enemy.

Just about a year sober, do you know what that feels like?
Do you know what it feels like to not be able to drown out these emotions
and these feelings; it's hard to do this work.

Then why fight it, feel what you feel. Feeling is important.
I understand that it's fracturing your back.

It's not just breaking me. It's hurting me. It's killing me.
I can't even express it in metaphor. I just feel so crushed
not being able to say the things that I mean.

You can, and you will; it takes sometime to heal.