I joined a support group,
Like I told myself to.
We lurk in the shadows of the evening.
If you glance around the circle,
You can tell each person’s real age by what they say,
Like the rings in their throats.
While they uncomfortably clear their throats.
And it’s so,
Unfathomably depressing,
To sit there and think,
Is this all life is?
The hot glare of the sunlight,
Enveloping your shoulders and it’s uncomfortable.
And it's your turn,
And you do exactly what you’re trying to stop,
Run face first into the calm of the storm,
Pleading, like a lost son,
Take me.
And she takes you back, like she always does.
And you get up and leave.
