It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted anything. I’ve tried, but I just.. sometimes it makes me too sick to my stomach.. to even try to wrap my head around the fact that.. I’m posting Nate’s poetry, only because he’s not here to do it himself. That’s fucked up.

Anyway. This one Nate wrote while he was detoxing down on the farm in southern  KY, shortly after his overdose. I knew right away that he wrote this poem then because I recognized that same pink ink and the paper from some letters he wrote me during that time. Weird that I remember that. Maybe cause it’s pink, and who could forget that? I don’t know.

You can always click on the image to enlarge it, but just in case you can’t read it…

I don’t have a team
I only dream
Alone I let off steam
Alone I get clean
Everything is so precise
It all comes at a price
It’s all very good
Isn’t that nice
It’s just one way of being
I hold strong.. but inside I’m pleading
I can’t trust what I’m seeing
I can only putt when I’m done
I’m now with me
I am what I be
Sometimes I’m so blind
I’m all I can see
When the earth and sky are dry
When the dust burns my face
The spirits come out and hide
My soul is in another place
And when empty is the feeling
And when I’m frightened way past healing
Love and life appear on the horizon
Love and strife keep the temperature risin’

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