Myself

Cold ...and empty
Wet concrete beneath my soles
Inhaling smoke, exhale regret
Looking back at the day that we met

Bold ...in plenty
Damp sidewalk beneath my toes
For all of my woes to lament
Don't think I know myself yet

It hurts to stand
But I can't lay down

How can broken hands,
Lift this crown?

Told ...already
As I sit down upon the curb

Fold ...when I met me
As I lay down upon these words