365 Poems – 151 North Face (Rough First Draft)

North Face
I divert my course North,
to avoid a collision
that could kill me.

I need to avoid the noise
of the rest of the world.

Back, there was
never enough
life in my days.

Sleep was stolen.
Hundreds of hours
were spent looking
for misplaced things
I never fully loved or needed.

I sit here in the morning.
I breathe in Arctic air
and leave my thoughts
where I find them.

I don’t care nobody can
hear me when I speak, for
the North is my chosen
face to look towards.

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