afraid.

Knocking on the door, and I know I’ve felt like this before. This road led to an impasse, all I had, but that’s all gone. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

I can’t hurt you from here—I can only hurt myself.

This coffee is stale, or maybe it’s my mood, does it really matter to you? Mine is the oil contrasting the ocean—black out the rest of the world. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

Bleeding hearts of every color. Until the pain makes room for more.

I’m afraid. Afraid to go anywhere, to do anything. Outside I hear people move, from place to place, town to town. So you think I’m cool as shit, when I’m losing it, and I’m done with this. No more appeal, throwing shade on all that’s real. I will make this place my home.

Uncomfortably until I’m numb. Comfortable, and then I’m done.

The last man on Earth

I wasn’t meant to feel good today.

That may have been a few days ago. Memories blur… I forget what you look like by now.

Maybe I felt I had value earlier today- serviceable, existing.

But it only takes one leak, one dip under the rising tide and a pissed off sea,
too rampant to care.

Constant trepidation and I can’t figure this out.
There are no open sores, just recoil
and wait for the next wave.

I sink and sink, deeper and deeper and this is the only outlet I have right now.

Or I’m just thinking out loud to myself.

I wasn’t meant to feel good today.