It's heavy on the head,
that letting-go part.
The whole,
"We need some time apart;
it's just too draining.
Maybe in a few years we can see
how much you are
and where we want to go
from there."
Figures.
Always running the show,
always giving me a hard time,
lifting me up
just to slam me down,
whooping my *** while I'm
sprawled out like roadkill.
(Though it's so hard to turn away...)
The lies are told to desperate ears,
making the pickings ever sweeter.
Thanks for the pick-me-up!
Now where's the put-me-back-down?
When do we plummet
way past our infamous goals
to the deeply imagined?
More than a fair share of fun
for the measly price of living!
Too many goodnights
haunted by negativity,
when sleep is better
than anxiety.
(The real test is when it decides to show its face again...)
Bah,
that won't be for a while,
at least until I've
made a name for myself
in some...
other way.
Once the mirror shows beneath
the tailored suede suit;
then we'll see who separates the lazy
from the dead.
I wonder if there will be a day
when I can wake up,
sure that there will be no more
condescendence
from my craft.
Invalidation.
