I think back,
and it was,
it was this bad before.

You think it will end differently, but you know what's in store.

The older you get, the harder it is to maintain.
A machine run on poison cannot be sustained.
It cracks and creaks,
and liver fluid, it leaks.

You plan your life,
not by years,
but by weeks.

Repeating affirmations cannot keep you sane.
You go to work, you do yoga, and you stay in your lane.

But the sweats, the shakes, the numbness and the shame.

It's always the last time,
but it's always the same.

You are driving down a one way.
Full speed towards the end.
To feel something, or nothing,  or to avoid it all again.

Who can you run to or pray to from above?
Who can you talk to without hurting those that you love?

You have no one but yourself.
But you don't care if you fail.
And you know that others have far grimmer tales.

So you keep on grinding,
keep doing the same **** everyday.
And pray that the pandemic will take it all away.

You felt this all when you were younger,
wrote it down and talked it out.

But that didn't help, you moved on
but it lingers,
explodes,
and comes out.

What is the purpose and why should I care?
What is the end goal and why am I here?

Stupid, *******, emo ****,
an outlet to explore,
but instead, let's drink more.