There’s a space that exists
In between being discharged and the deep desire to reenlist
Between the war I was waging engaging with strongholds
Right in the midst of black eyes and bloody fist
The battle for my soul traveling from stole to whole
Deeply scarred from blind sided blows
The things I did that nobody knows and a half cocked smile dialed down to not let the imperfections of my bottoms show

Between the muscular curvature of my inquisitive soul and my will disguised, self-demised self-hating leading role in the James show

In between being a broken man with no desire in admission that my condition had fractured my soles and being a broken man deep in the throws of the definition of being a war torn hero

Between sitting in the ash and soot being fueled by the anger and rage hidden with the flames and wearing my light tightly yoked provoking the evoke of being sane

Between being a man who was dying of thirst worshipping at the well of the adoration of me peers and accepting the satiation of the Living Waters that runneth over plummeting my distrust and fears

Between who I used to be and who I’m becoming there is nothing but space and time
Between The Death and Ressurection stands the insurrection of all the violence I shoveled into my eyes
Where I’m headed, only God knows but He shows me the way by casting a cloud over my vision that’s lasted longer than three days

It’s here where I sit and wait
Where my vision can’t serve yet I can only trust what I see
I am perched atop My Rock
At home
In the in between