Something has gone awry inside me
Like the taste of milk right before it goes off
Still works but not quite right and not for long
I dream of drinking till stupor
A blur
Of swaying rhythmically in a crowd- lost in a lonely wave of other lifeless souls
Pretending to be living life
Perhaps that is life
But all we seem to be doing is escaping
Because escaping is easy
What is hard is routine
Of roots
Of follow throughs
Not falling out
Of learning instead of leaning
Of moving forward
Moving on from those whove dragged us down
Even if down is where it's easy to hide
To complain
That life isn't right
When we are doing nothing to solve the wrong
What's wrong with wallowing in self pity?
It's no self disservice if sorrow is the end goal
But if you get to pick which way to point your pointless life
Why pair yourself with sadness when you can chose an other wife