Uncharted, like some cursed
Frenzy into rat-race ethics and whether
There’s any cheese left for a funny
None-type-of-situation.
The gift rattled on to prove the measure
Of societal friendly expectations.
The lonelier life gets the more I notice, how
Dynamics whither away.
Too afraid to leave a job to lose a sense of community.
Why is it the others that make my day realistic?
Bonafide like the degree of others is what measures the ultimatum into real existence.
I can only hope I try to stay strong
Into the notion of forgiveness.
What it’s like to be kind full-time.
I don’t know how to turn into my bad habits.
Walk away in my mind so quickly.
It’s been many decades I’ve felt this
Way and seen this
Before.
Why turn my back on myself now?
Acting like you’re in your 20s…
How do I explain my unique situation?
Saviors can deny anyone.
Including themselves.
Peruse the problem a bit more.
I said there was none, I had none.
It didn’t cut that deep.
Now I’m silent with myself unsure why I’m
Shutting down
And pruning every dismal error
In my mind’s automated algorithm
Of walk-away.
Just do it again.
I don’t even know how to do that.
I’m blind.
Stunted like the tiny flowers in the grass.
That’s all they’ll ever be but they’re prind
And crane their neck
Still hopeful in their bounty.
Tan lines and I’ve been sore for over a week.
Work so hard and I put back in my clothes
That reminds me of myself.
Dirtbag all the same.
Dust the threads
Or check
Clocks, again.
I’m reminding myself of how I think of myself.
That’s not good.
Healthy? Honest.
I can provide that honestly.
Otherwise, my voice crackles and I’m unable
To give up plains and platitudes
As to why
I have no response.
It hurts, not after awhile.
That’s me being coy.
A life lived in silence and trauma mute
How do I lose it now?
petrichor - archive 