I cringe
watching my daily replay.
My thoughts of change
being just that,
thoughts.

Thought never fully brought forth
into the distant light of reality.

The ceiling mocks me
as I lay in bed
in the depths of the night,
plating seeds of a new day
in infertile soil.

My position here has become one of frustration.
I can't help but laugh
at feeble attempts
of reaching higher ground.

Treading water
here in this
cesspool of stale emotion does not bother me.
I only wish to see the shore.