Put to flame
Melted
Changed for abuse
Taken in, to be let out
Used to get through it
put through unclean waters
where a little still remains
invisible solution
to motivate an escape
left to air and found again
desperate and at hand
funneled to the tool
to kiss a flame
less but more than nothing
this cycle of abused use
continues until new
then to be put through this
again, and again, and again.

In sentences
I leave parts
Pieces pulled from
The one few get to know
To lead to where
He may have gone.
In each word
Every poem
Bread crumbs.

A little of the ways
That in meaningful associations
Indeed seemingly do so
Contribute to the whole
This soul, a man  
A being.
Seeking out
What it is to simply be.
Make that being,
That is oft lost
Steadily climbing
Declining
Describing with little
Ability, less talent
The wars waged beneath
And the collateral damage
Unseen.

And, how am I supposed to feel?
When I've failed at literally everything I've ever done.
This slow motion day to day trainwreck
Is growing leads to but one end.  
One I used to certain I'd avoid. Resentment trying to form.  I won't because of him, of the few, of them.  Being forced to pickyself up, admitting, again, why it was me.  My fault, I failed this latest attempt.  Running out of options.  Spirit nearly broken. I'd ask for help, but if only I knew where?  How or why? What is the point? When I obviously will set others up to disappoint.  I hate being a burden.  I can feel peers views.  I hate seeing the look that most try not to be apparent.  Apparently, they don't understand how that look is me.  My own in the mirror every mi ute if every day.

It is all I have and it won't do
Presently just a mast and myself
Bailing with detached Feelings
As the vessel slips from view.
The blue waters represent the demands
The weight of the responsibility
My expression is out of place
Instead of determination and despairation
I'm staring off, hugging the mast
One hand bailing to pour right back to the sea.  
The mast slowly slipping from grasp,
Me, failing to save a sinking ship, myself or even to stay true to the bottom.
What is wrong with me?  I need to correct these detached Feelings before everything, me, everything comes to ruined.

I stand held fast
Reasons seemingly intangible
This body at rest is unmoving
And I want for the blankets
The pillow does welcome tired minds
I succumb.  I nap.  Another wastes noon
What after that