A gnarled guardrail
is what remains.

One day they'll fix it,
I'll never think of you again.

Life proceeds.
It speeds
along these
worn streets.

I eye
the guardrails
with fervor, fervently.
I sometimes
yearn
to gnarl one up.

Eyes on the lines, now.
They'll lead me
home.

rather be honest
and alone
than live
together
under false pretenses.

Sometimes
people
end up
alone.

Sometimes
It's by
choice.

Other times
it's because
they're fat,
or ugly.

There's a sinking ship
beneath our feet.

We don't notice it though,
we can't see.

Busy playing in the metaphysical dirt,
busy tumbling gravel and stones from our shoes.
Busy. Too busy.

What do you notice
first thing
on a Sunday morning?

That's all that
ever really matters.

So when tomorrow comes
I'll try to remind myself
that this is what I chose.

This is the life
I deserve to live.

Wet boots,
menial tasks.

Remember Justin,
this is what
you wanted.

I'm ingenuine.
Disingenuous.
...whatever.

Diner.
Dinerettes.
Grace me,
I'm your
favorite.

Serve me, I tip well.
Now show me your *****,
I won't tell.

God I want
To taste it,
to dip
into you.

**** man.
I literally can't stop drinking.

I took a day off,
yesterday.
But it don't matter.

I was bitter and angry
all day today.

So I grabbed a bottle
on my way home.

I'm an alcoholic.

But I'm a poet too?