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Jan 1
I crawl out of the wreckage
after talking to myself
about the troubles I am having
with my debt and bills to pay.

I dig myself out
from envisioning  
my headaches taking hold
and threatening to blow my eyeballs out.

(And then I start to realize...)

I am stuck in the middle of nowhere
in a shop run by ghosts
and they wonโ€™t let me go free.

I stop envisioning
the woman who stopped talking to me
and I realize that I canโ€™t go anywhere wherever she is.

Then I touch the counter
and I realize how dusty it is
but I donโ€™t see any dust on my fingers

(And then I start to contemplateโ€ฆ)

What if I am not living?
What if I am wasting time
on the things making me dead on the inside?

I wander around this dead auto shop
and see the wrecked metal shell that was my car
and the wrecked driver that was me.

I only see it as a tomb
for a dead shell of a guy
too busy thinking about worrying and too busy thinking about dying
than paying attention to the road.
Kristopher Miller
Written by
Kristopher Miller  32/M
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