I return home
from another long night
putting on shows for
people I do not know
and with people
I can scarcely
relate
to
my legs ache,
my hands twitch,
little bites and
bruises liter my body
like some kind of
war paint
there is no satisfaction
in this any more
there is a deep unfulfillment
in the life I am now living
I move slowly,
each action taking more
and inflicting more,
while I contemplate the
meaning of my life
(once again)
and look about my bedroom
wondering why I have allowed
it to become so
messy