At least now
I get back to this
Mired in meaningless
Never the writer
I thought I would be
Just the one
Who gets by
On emotionally
Unapproachably
Truculent
Daily dose supplement
Of my deficient
Self-worth
Ego shattering
Into a million persona
Brains splattering
All across
Can’t carry on
Not the same
But my noose is indifference
The rope is existence
Resistance again
My futility pen
Proudly pressing its muses
To paper
To savor
Unfortunate cycles
Of bliss turned to anger
Whenever I fail
To maintain
The “my” concept
Own up to the tragic flaw
There from the onset