2-18-16

Here we go again.
But I shouldn’t say “we.”
I should be saying “me.”

Here I find myself,
year after year,
all alone and trapped in my skin.

Here I find myself
drifting out to sea.
And if I could bring you, I would.
It wouldn’t be so lonely.

It’s a place you could never be.
It’s a sadness for sadness’ sake.
It’s a desperate grab for anything real.

I’m afraid of bringing you down.
I’m afraid of feeling this forever.

There’s got to be an end,
even if it’s my own.
There has to be peace,
more than just a taste.

I’m drifting.
I’m chaos.
I’m a gun shy of done.