Upstate

I don't know why it will not come. Under pressure, in a time crunch, in a strange house with other voices pushing at your timeline, I do not know why it will not
come. 

The only thing that works during pain is poetry. I think of long country roads in frost, think of how desolate a barren tree, I make worlds out of words where none existed before, I forget time, this is how it will
come, I

learn and relearn the same lessons so many times, after
a lifetime of screaming I am not sure
what it will take for me to 

here
[sic]

.