I’m not remotely close to having control.
My fingers slip, but I don’t want to go down that hole.
Temptation at the tip of my nose
with her eyes opening up my soul.
My resolve is low, but I’m trying to make it last.
Sometimes in this race, I feel like I’m coming in last,
even though I stick to the goal, and I’m skating so fast.
I just wish to feel whole, but that’s evading my grasp.
It would be so easy to give up,
to lift up, the regret and hating the past.
Holding on is so hard, is this what
life leads to? The anger and grief bleeds through
my words, hurting him, her, and me too.
Is it sad to plead to the unknown when euphoria actually sees you
at your lowest? When you’re unheroic
and have never been stoic? When you’re unnoticed
yet devoted but you can’t keep focus
because you’ve lost all motive?
It’s sobering to deny the malice
but what if you’re too weak to avoid the chalice?
Will falling into euphoria break the chains on my talus?
Does happiness come from self-discipline and earnest effort, or does it stem from the abandonment of concern in the pursuit of euphoria?