The path back is lost.
In all candor, it's my own behavior that i abhor.
This troubling state, this drunk inertia.
Is no commodity that deserves praise.

For a troubled man, full of sores
will end up crying alone.
many thanks to my bedroom ceiling, and the fractals that play in between a quick intermission.

Repulsive, obtuse, pompous, deaf, dumb, sweetheart,
ill set  a candle for you
i swear, i swear, i swear
i  accept you (myself).