Failed again; only this time I lose everything, including my mind.
I plan to wake tomorrow with the intention of trying again.

Your life is your life,
Don't let it be clubbed into dank submission.

I know some "thing" is watching, listening closely.
"It," sends me hope through whispers, whispers only I can hear.
I am scrutinized, ostracized, berated for even paying attention to "that thing."

I am hurt. I want to quit. But I lost everything already, what more do I have to lose?

I act again. I try again. I fail again.
I've given myself the piece of advice to: hold these failures close to my heart. They will pave the way. One stepping stone after another.

You will ride life into perfect laughter.

Everyone I loved left.
Everyone I trusted betrayed.
Everyone I held on, gave up.
What makes you so different from them?
I'd rather end it at 'hello'.

Maybe I'm shooting in the dark.
Maybe I'm shooting at something that's not really there.
It doesn't feel fair
that I have to be
such a lousy shot.

I'm not a robot.
I'm not calculating.
I'm not cold and defining.

I might be running through rivers of black ink.
I might be breathing in the noise.
I might be doing anything at all, but I don't think
I could fail to notice.

I'm not just ignorant,
I know what's happening,
but I can't admit anything at all.
I'd rather fall

into the staining, screaming streams
that claw at my callused feet.
I'm running
with no street
to follow.

The shining ink's close
to me, but it's not
how I want to go.

I really am flailing at nothing,
but I realize
I was never breathing words,
I was breathing in these thick and heavy woods.

I can't keep running.
I've destroyed that part of myself.
I keep the perfect things on a shelf
where I can't reach them.

Please, tell me again
how I am not breathing in
your words like oxegyn.

My lifeline, my lifeline.
I can't find it.
I'm drowning, I'm drowning.

Pulling muscle and
refusing to keep it down
preparing to drown.

Chasing, out of reach,
the pleasure you seek.
I ponder, could it be, my
technique? Greatness, our
aim, failure, to live amongst
those, who toil, in shame. Yet,
perhaps it is we, who dread
her challenge, the untamed.
Drive, to her chamber, feel
her unmask, her revenge,
impale, on your passion.

What dispirited purpose cups to my ear
Or orifice sufficed at being a sense of the world
What hands can claim to be my lips
Speaking to the world they claim to feel

What broken envy feels
Those scattered ivy fields
Of hopeful grey sent on its way
Of years and months poured into the day?

What gotten fear keeps me
Chained cherish to the time I should
Be walking on to other things
That make me feel the good?

I found a barrow cut by the wheel
And ghoul-hands rotten roots a-reach
From smoothed walls cut to seem rough
And grief for spirits frothing at the ducts.

I found some feeling of myself
Sippy-cup filled with mediate dreams
I made up words to keep myself from gotten
I sank into quicksand on my back

I know
what it's like to win
at life
at family at
money at SMARTS and
it didn't feel
I didn't feel--

better to fail and
feel the same and
know there's a
chance
I couldwouldshould be happier in
a better
scenario

"If only I had a second chance"
"I would do everything right
You could do everything right
And yet you would still lose
This is nothing more than regret
As long as you live by your heart
What can you ever regret?
Regret is turmoil over failing yourself
Don't ask for second chances
Don't regret your mistakes
Just live by your heart
And start all over again