Equal Strangers

I like it here,
but to an extent,
one that only reaches so far
where the distance I’ve traveled
could explain something better,
but all I have left
are receipts, not tickets
visas, not invitations
and the smile on my face
still makes me look like everyone else
where I drowned in common expressions
that relay their replies
through a want
more than a need.
I must be teaching myself a lesson,
one that needs learning
through this half-vacant mind
that rumbles with itself
the same way that wanting
can equal deserving
and the way that feeling
could,
in one light,
equal knowing.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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