Untitled 12-4-23

I can't even really be

Honest with my therapist

Now that's sad

I curate this visage of me

What will you see?

Bullshit spun

In this wonderful web?

My karma comes quick

For lying

This bed I made

Why must my conscience exist?

Was better when I didn't care

Life could be

So much more

I can't heal

This self made hole

I used to write songs

I could again

Use my voice

As God did intend

Make amends

With those forgotten friends

I'm just sorry

For misspoken words

Time spent alone,

Few and far between

So in this space

Unfamiliarity speaks

Who is this me?

Have I learned

Anything at all?

Not sure of myself

At all

The next page

Same day

I am afraid

My humanity screams

Falling apart at the seams

Put together again

Will I ever win?

So many dreams

Indecisiveness rings

Round and round

My will drowns and

Gets me down

Sporting this frown

My grief deserves to live

Do I even know

What love is?

The stuff beyond

Our traumatic bonds

Of flesh?

I guess i'll do my makeup

Before work

And pretend like

It will help my self worth

Maybe fix my vape

Maybe pick at my face

Dopamine fiend

In any case

My husband's gone away

More like gone astray

Askew, in his office attic room

Zoom zoom zoom

No room for you