Looking back on these pages,
I can’t help but see,
this outlet I’m using,
is not helping me.

I used to use poetry,
to clear out my thoughts,
to “pour out the poison”,
when I was distraught.

Lately, however,
it’s changed in some way.
That feeling of peace,
has been replaced with dismay.

I would pour out a rhyme,
and the pain would recede,
but now the water grows deeper,
and I simply can’t breathe.

I look around lately,
and this feels like a dream.
It’s like nothing is real,
just “simulated reality”.

Going through the motions,
but there has to be more,
there has to be substance,
but where is the shore?

How do I stop from drowning,
when I’m creating the waves?
Fighting to stay afloat,
and trying to act brave.

I guess the simple answer is,
is it’s not simple at all.
I have to keep trying,
if I can’t walk then I’ll crawl.

**** all the whining,
the excuses too,
because I’m in this alone,
and I know what to do.

I won’t give up easy,
and if I should fail,
then at least I’ll know I tried,
to open my sail.

So here’s to the future,
and a heart I hope mends,
but even if it doesn’t,
we’re all just stories in the end.