Not a poem, but I'm back from a hiatus and I wanted to let this amazing community know that I will be writing more!

I'm working on a long-form narrative poem so some of those passages will be up here..along with my usual "sad boy" stuff.

However, I'm not so sad anymore so it might be less sad ;)

Sunsets over the horizon dip,
And you're just another person
Who will slip
Between my fingers
Like sap
In the cracks
of trees.
I too bleed,
The tears stain -
My own water,
Leaving me dessicant.
I have no vitality,
Just a shell, husk, of a man
While other happy faces surround me.

I'm s ******* scared
Of what tomorrow;
The next hour;
The next minute
Can bring.
I don't want to
Go through each day
With a constant fear and worry.
I'm not doing anything wrong
By living -
But I'm committing a crime
By existing.
I'm not good enough for you.
I can't keep myself together
Long enough
For us
To actually love each other.
I don't want to lose you
Before I've gotten the chance
To really enjoy you.

I'm already erasing myself
From you mental notes -
There was never anything
Notable about me anyways.

I'll carry on -
Just like you will too.
And eventually -
We both will be happy.

But,
Maybe you just won't be
Happy with me.

So, leave me
Like the soft breeze
On a hot
San Diego day.

I'll try to not miss you
As much as I miss the breeze.
But,
There are no guarantees -
Much less so,
Once you leave.

I hate my personality.
I don't have a personality
That cultivates relationships.
No,
My personality leads to anguish -
Insecurity.
If I could,
For once,
Harvest a bit of
Silence in my brain -
I'd love that.
I hate to feel anxiety;
Fear of abandonment;
Insecurity;
Obscurity;
I hate to feel what I feel.
What's worse,
I can't find elegant words
To describe it.
Leaving me mute,
People assume things about me,
Making my efforts moot.
Friends think I'm overbearing;
Demanding.
Romances think I don't trust them;
That I'm too controlling,
Insecure;
Dependent;
Too moody;
Too possessive.
My personality makes people leave me.
I'm too touchy -
Too hard to love or understand.
People see me,
And expect me to freak out,
Or to demand attention.
Well this is my account -
Because when you are on
The borderline,
It's easy to see
That the grass is greener
On either side -
But for others,
You seem polarized.
I'm not happy with how my brain works.
I don't want to be the way I am.
I don't want to make sure people are
Thinking about me...
And then feel guilty or angry when they don't,
Or can't.
I hate my personality.
I hate who I am.
It causes me to never feel comfort,
And my unrest has left me
An insomniac for too long.
Now,
I just want to rest.
But,
It's hard to sleep when you're alone
And afraid of the dark.

Plug it into the amplifier,
Record the data.
It's easy.
I wish it really was.

EEG labs are bland,
Boring -
But mostly
Anxiety-inducing
Stressing
Centers for science.

My dream was broken at one of these,
As I came in each day,
Expecting to do great research work
And learn -
Work with data first hand!

That's not how things play out.
I was left without guidance -
Or at least not the guidance I resonate with.

I graduated university bright-eyed and hoping,
Just hoping,
That I could make something of myself.
This is how I felt when I started as well.

I had a dream of helping people.
It feels like I can't get there now.
I walk into the lab
And the others,
My "colleagues"
Speak down to me.
As if I don't have a degree,
As if I am not trying so ******* hard
To do something here.

I want to be part of a project,
I do.
I want to work with data,
I do.
I want this experience to move
On to my PhD
And do my own research
And help people -
I really ******* do.

But this topic is as sticky
As the gel that glues
Electrodes to the participants
Abraded scalp.
I feel trapped,
Not able to convey this to the supervisors -
I could be judged,
I could possibly be looked down on even more.

So,
I re-read the training protocols
And try to get the one more sign-off
To run appointments.
And fail again,
But then try again.

What else am I supposed to do without guidance?
My professors at UIC saw something in me,
I wish the researchers I work with now did.
I wish I saw something in me as well.

Espresso shots pour,
And I'm mainlining caffeine.
The taste of coffee tickles my tounge
And I feel at ease.

Milk steaming,
Eyes gleaming
Smile beaming.

Then the espresso shots die.
I let them sit too long.
Didn't down them quick enough
Or craft a creative caffinated drink
To keep me awake.

I too fall dead asleep
Weak
By the bleak
Black eye
And frowning face.

Uppers and downers
I am the latter,
Flattering to be the the stimulating
Drink that drowns her.

I'm no longer interested in espresso.
A barista falling
Like my fortísima not running
Now crawling.

I'm not caring,
Unawaring
Becoming wary
And scary.

I lost myself
And esteem
To be the milk that was once steamed
And sweetened.

Dead like espresso shots
On a lonely bar.
My head is clouded by knots
Of why I've strayed so far.

You first feel it in your face.
There is an uncomfortable
Warmness,
As if all of the heat in your body
Has condensed in your head,
****** from your feet -
Extremities grow cold.

You then tense up,
And shake a bit.
Afraid to talk.
Things look hazy,
And people's words go
In one ear, out the other.

You might not notice it,
But your jaw is clenched.
You become scared and trapped.
You are trapped in your own head.

Your breathing either slows,
Or speeds up.

On the outside,
You look emotionless.

It hurts the core,
And you feel more afraid.

Rinse, repeat.

I'm addicted to
The drug called happiness.
A simple addict
Of fantastic phantasm fantasy,
In ecstacy.

I always heard that things peak.
What goes up, must come down.
Am I at my come down?

Why can I not forever feel
This happiness?
Will I wade in the shallow
Ocean soon?

Can things just only keep getting better?
These days I glow
In a radiant beauty
And I have never seen myself
Glow before.

Is this feeling just the now?
As I become a ***** to the
Good feelings that my life
Is suddenly bringing me.

I like to think that my life
Is paying me back with good luck
For all the times I missed a four leaf clover
Growing in a meadow
Or didn't glance at a shooting star long enough to wish.
And this time I don't need a good luck charm,
Or a wish.

But now I come to.
Is this my peak?
Is this as good as things will ever be?
What we built upon could fall,
And I grow afraid of tomorrow.

2018 brought me growth,
2019 brought me happiness and stability.
Oh, curse this new year bringing me fear
Because chasing after a stillborn dream
Is beyond my ability.

This dream, I never want to wake up.
There is a person I love.
A family I built.
An internal balance I perfected.

Would life be cruel to rip that away?
But worst of all,
I could never prepare for that
Because that's how life is.

I became happy gradually,
Without noticing the changes
Because becoming stable and feeling loved
Became my normal.
So, will I never notice what I will lose?
Can that hurt me more than noticing at all
And trying to stop it
At a demise?