07 September, 2015

In the Morning At Night

In the morning
when it’s cool and still
I sometimes forget for a moment
I am stuck
I am surrounded by the inane
and broken doors
and familiar boredoms
I am disgusted with myself
Everyone else is disgusting
I forget for a moment
I want to wring out all my organs
Spill my memories into a pail,
Bury them under this city
Walk away from all of you
You all claim to love me
I am stuck
It might be all my fault
I thought too highly of myself
Progress isolated
is not a gain
I do not admire it
I do not admire isolation
At night I remember always
I am taunted by my own rage
It is lonely and paralyzing
Opportunity entices
but it is fleeting
It is taken away
I am left with more memories to wring
For all my movement
and patient readjusting,
I am stuck
Brief hope stings the most
In the morning
At night

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