Hello in-built shell,
how shell-fish of me to think
I could avoid your beckoning
bell, of self pity.
Let us welcome in Sin-City.
Here is every bad thought you've
ever had.
Every signal sad wander
clad in bleak black memory.
The goodness drifting away
in a puddle of ink,
removing my ability to think
clearly.
No matter how dearly I cling to
the loved ones.
Look to your right and there's the
childhood.
Which you would not change even
if you could.
Because, detested as it seems, I still
feel a gleam of familiarity and
clarity
from my gloriously ****** up family.
Look to your left and you'll see yourself,
bereft of all emotion,
going through the motions of
life,
burning cold, rife
with emptiness.
Positively cesspit.
Look down, not straight ahead,
and you'll see all of the relationships
left dead on the highway of life.
The ghosts of what you said
pinning them anchored to drown,
stapled further by words
you regretted typing down.
Look up, far up in the sky,
endless arch of black,
dark harpies shrilly whispering
all that you lack.
The only crack of light, lightning,
allowing further attack
on your senses.
It dispenses quickly with
the pleasantries.
You're a regular here.
Now look sharp straight ahead,
stop stooping with dread.
Look up to the light, and fight
for the figure you see.
Look past the debris, and into her
eyes,
whose blue offers glimpses of less
stormy skies.
They speak of cold coffee, and
too milky tea.
Pedal your boat faster
She's where you're meant to be.
Think Positivity.