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I treat my life like a joke,
I drink, I smoke,
I can't keep a steady job,
I cave, I sob,
I'm not really one for human contact,
I don't attract,
I'm not sure if I want to live or die,
So I don't try,
I've nothing bearing semblance to a goal,
It's awful dull,

I hope to sing, to sing a song,
Of hope that I may carry along,
And find a reason to justify,
The bleeding heart and tired eyes,
A quest for which I could stake my life,
A reason for the pain and strife,
I'd be happy, to defend to the death,
A cause to justify my breath
Tonight I'll open the window, just a smidgen,
I'll turn on my night light, and I'll take off my covers,
With any luck, the snow, in it's serene beauty, will cover me,
With any luck, the perfect unique snowflake will dance to my bed

Colder, like something from a memory I had,
A younger self in a northern place, trouncing in snow,
Fighting the accumulation like I was meant to do so,
Then falling down, sinking, and letting the snow protect me,

So I invite the snow, offer my condolences, and allow it in,
Let it lazily make it's way over my body,
Let it's touch envelope me, make me aware of it's presence,
Let it crystallize and solidify around my meager form,

And let the days pass, whilst I sleep,
Allow time to trod on, in my absence,
Force my absence, so that frozen water may heal my mind,
And let me come back at my own pace, on my own time,

Even Colder still, my mind flees from the scene,
My body is numb to the white fluff that detains me,
My memory etches a figure standing, staring, misunderstanding my intent,
My heart slows down

But no days pass, I cannot sleep,
Time does not quicken, as if it would matter anyways,
I am present, mostly, but deaf to a lot,
So I'll close my window and grab my blanket and try to sleep
Helplessly pull my body, mind, and soul,
It tows me gently at first,
Luring me on so that claws may dig in while my guard is dropped,
Helplessly yanking me into the abyss,

It is naught but chaos here,
When I speak, the words echo back mockingly,
Jeering at me, questioning everything,
Determining that I will never be adequate,

I am native to this dark land,
I am a destroyer of the already destroyed,
Nothing is created here, nothing of worth,
Anything of worth is borrowed from someone or something else,

There is no room to breathe here, no oxygen in the air,
To think such vast space could harbor so little,
Nothingness rotating, floating, and gliding from nowhere to nowhere,
Nothing but space to think, and no good thoughts to think,

But I embrace the nothingness, for it is all I have,
I appease it with my loud silence, and let it's tendrils dig into me,
I let it berate and harass me, and I do not speak a word of it,
Because it is all I have, and I may not leave
You pulled me close,
Shoved my lips to yours,
Told me there was something,
Something hidden beneath all the stress and drama,
Some shining light to seep through and bring us together,
Some reason for the bleak, endless days, and the lonely, sleepless nights,
You told me it was love,
You loved seeing me hear what I wanted to hear,
Excited, like a stray dog getting attention,
Rubbed, and complimented, lured with sustenance,
Taken off guard, to end up in the firm embrace of a net,
The deed of the catcher, come to take it away and have it put it down,
So I believed you, again, for the third time,
And followed you, tail wagging, off to the pound.
A little discipline oughtta do you good,
Just like my father, when in the mood,
Would lay his problems down on me,
Gave scars that turned to poetry,

So I learned to take the damage well,
And in that time, I learned to spell,
So pain would not mean misery,
And It could hide in poetry
Get a start, get a life,
Go get you a pretty wife,
Go to school, pay your bills,
Don't forgot to write your will,
Smile more, worry less,
Look, you're making progress!
Buy car, take a trip,
Try to keep it young and hip,
Watch your weight, doll it up,
You really need to fill your cup,
Give it in, Cede to God,
In his power, you are awed,
And though I try, I can't believe,
The lies that I, myself, conceive,
To fight the cold, impending sound,
Of it all crumbling all around,
And myself being put into the ground
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