Checking back in,
As the anxiety fills like a ship taking on water
As the disownership sets in in
The blasphemy,
The treachery
Like I've stolen some shitty boat
and cannot escape with it
Defeat upon defeat
over some war-torn place that bears no semblance
To the reason ;
there is an amnesia to this storm battered harbor,
A hurricane of forget that eats and hungers
And can never be satiated
As we awaken to the same headache day after day
Stuck in this rut where everything seems like a waste of time
Like a clot in one’s skull, wholistically absolving the concerns of the future
Made manifest as exhaustion; tired of the failure, tired of the struggle
tired of the lies and the bullshit and the lack of advancement
Tired of this existence where nothing seems to develop favorably
tired of money reigning over everything, and always, religiously coming up short
I dreamt of a child presenting yesterday’s meagre catch to the oracle, as if by virtue of desperation, a favorable fortune could be won
As if the bones of something that wasn’t good to begin with become better with time
as a coagulated mass of cells in a biohazard bin outside of the clinic should have suffered more
Where the horrors of all that could have been, and what in fact became
collapse the probability of another day looking into a phone
Wishing, I had done more with my life than this.
Adrift in myriad waves, as if drowning is all I know.
And i find myself craving crimson romance, utterly antithetical to this
as it is alive and thriving somewhere
Like some ignorant fantasy that propels this broken cathedral forward
into the waves of time and circumstance
Of flesh and profit
Crassly, writhing in filth and fluids, gasping for air
Aboard a ship that has already decided our fate
Adrift in an ocean
utterly indifferent to our suffering
