They say,
"You have a bright future, ahead,"
This, I say, is a lie.
Maybe because
another of my underclassmen
Was arrested
Maybe because the valedictorian,
Of my class,
Dropped out of collage
To further their knowledge of psychedelic drugs.
Perhaps,
It's a broken education system.
Perhaps,
It's the absent parents.
Who knows,
But as of now,
As things are now,
The optimist in me can see
That our futures are all quite grim.

Sometimes,
I get tripped up
when I think of going back
to
who I once was;
a poet,
a man with his head held high
and
chest pushed out
like some sort of
sixties super hero.
Can I really replicate that?
Can I write poems as I once did?
I find that in these times
words
fall
like
a
waterfall
from my head,
through my nervous system,
into my chest
where a gust of wind
is pulled between my lips,
down my throat,
into my lungs
where it becomes vibrations
climbing out of me
like the victim of a car crash.  
then comes my teeth,
The porcelain wall.
my mouth,
the black hole.
Nothing seems to escape me anymore. I find that
in times of utter contentedness,
I can not speak. "
It's hard to write content." Unbelievably difficult,
unbearably so.
Yet, here I sit,
tapping away at my phone screen, dividing myself from my surroundings by vibrations of sound.
Yet, here I sit.
Trying to pull the lid off
of
this porcelain vase.
Yet here I sit
begging my body to let go,
some of these words
are to heavy to hold.
And  
some
to light to be held back.

The horizon appears, so, blue;
The sun, so, warm;
The breeze, so, cool.
Spring is here,
And
Life, today, is no chore.

I'm drunk again
Nothing new.
Nothing different.
I'm drunk again
Listening to music
Nothing somber
Nothing sad
Maybe a little of both
I'm drunk.
I've started drinking wine;
Riesling
Honestly, it started because of Mac lethal.
Honestly, I really like the taste.
Honestly, I don't know what to do
Honestly, all my dreams have come true.
I'm back with the first love I ever had.
I have the job I've wanted for years.
Between all the new beginnings.
And
Between all these awful dreams
Is where you can find me.
Where do I go from here?
Where do I go?
Knowing that I've achieved something.
Am I proud?
Should I be?
I drink nightly,
I smoke most nights
And I play video games so I can feel alive.
Where do I go from a new bottom?
I think...
No,
I drunkenly declare!
That there is no top
Only a bottom
It rises with you.
And my new "top"
What should it be?
What do I dream?
What do I see?
What could I be?

My mind has kept quiet.
It's an uncomfortable feeling really;
Being comfortable.

I'm mentally stuck in a pattern
Peaceful days
Growing comfortable
My significant other growing bored
Fighting
Losing said significant other
Watching her content with another
Trying to move on
Getting drawn back in.
Falling for her
Repeat.

Here I sit.
Stressed out in the bathroom.
A double tomorrow
Hungry
Irritable

My mind knows where I am.
My heart however;
Lost.
Not missing someone else.
Trying to climb out
Of
the emotional rut.

My heart is stuck thinking
there is a great build
A rising tide
A subtle crescendo
Into a dramatic ******.

I know one isn't coming.
I'm happy one isn't coming.
I'm struggling to cope
with that knowledge

I'm terrified of my own weakness.
I'm tired from work today
And
Honestly,
I'm terrified my heart
is so used to it's rut
That it doesn't want to keep trying
to pull itself out.

I'm at a loss.
Maybe after my shower,
I'll show you this
And
you'll help me
figure some things out as a short term

And

Then,
I'll swallow my pride
And
Really start looking into


Getting the help I really need.