I have all the right things to be happy about,
but I am not.
I am not content with how things are going
and I feel selfish.
I am not comfortable
and I feel ungrateful.
It's just when you get what you want,
you realize you actually wanted more.
And forcing yourself to be content with what you have,
only makes things harder to bear.

dreams,
two polar opposite dreams
somehow intertwined with each other.
mugged,
almost dying on the subway platform,
all my friends watching but doing nothing.
flowers,
a secret admirer too shy to engage in what could be love

wake up.
i, having a busy to do list,
wake up more tired than i was
when i fell asleep

running,
away from life.
i, being insanely depressed,
walk fast on a treadmill
staring into nowhere
listening to a podcast on the physiology of blood
not able to handle the one thing i loved that i had left.

waiting,
in line at the drug mart,
several people cut in front of me.
i did not stand up for myself like i usually would.

slowly
putting an energy drink up on the counter
"is everything ok?" the cashier asks with concern in her voice.
i, having headphones in one ear, instinctively say yes
thinking she asked me if i needed a bag.
i did not get a bag.

walking,
again, but this time slow,
already running a bit late for work.
I catch a bus.
i didn't need to but i ride it two stops and make it to work on time.

not terrible at work but not the best.
"it's been worse before" is an excuse i like to use.

walking,
again, but this time with no destination.

home.
stepping over my gym bag,
dropping everything on the floor,  
stepping over the other things i've been dropping on the floor.

i've become the person i hate.
the housekeeper with the messy house.
messy life,
emotions; no motivation to move on.

it's the end of the night
and nothing on my to do list gets done.
but, who can blame me,
i can't even breathe right anymore

miscommunication.
understanding the wrong thing at the wrong time in the worst possible moment.
giving up.
walking away when the time felt right .
never to hear your bitter words.
never to hear from you, since then.
you almost forget that it is six months later,
because each day feels like an eternity.
without you, my friend

suddenly aware of an ascending sense of depression
mostly unaware of my instinctive feelings and aggression.
my mind is running laps around the empty hole inside my chest
and i am just exhausted, my energy is constantly suppressed.
uncomfortably trapped inside my bed, just trying to arise
an aching sense of actuality, my brain can fantasize.
the throbbing pain of all my joints conjoin my body to my mind
regretting all of the troubled thoughts i thought i left behind.
proactively trying to occupy less space
staring in the mirror not recognizing my own face.
it's safe to say i'm lonely here, drowning in grey
but who is kidding, if you were here i'd probably just push you away.