Like I Poem by Joshua Bantum

I’m broke,
I have no job,
I live in a closet,
And happiness seems
A feeble dream that sets
Beneath the dissipation of another
Bottle’s hue

She’s normal,
As I, as the world
Encouraging destruction
It’s chaos, and the ability to heal,
After soot and ash has withered the bright
And
Red rose tree.

Her praise is silent,
gifted in smirks and scratches
of writing like this, she’s a religion,
as I, as the world,
and inside religion is fear of Death
shifting languid in his grave, attempting at seconds
of rest,
but I am life, and am acquainted with my contrast.

So this road is calm between us,
And neither of us walk it,
Not today
For the road is
too calm,
and tranquility is something to be cautious
Around, it’s structure is brittle, a statue of ash
Where even by noticing it, you alter its fine sewing
Of existence.
Like her, like I, like this world.