9/2/19

Is this even being alive anymore?
Cut throat assholes climbing over social corpses,
Corpses they’ve created but deny a hand in making.

This feels more like stories of Rome.
I am the slave, bureaucracy my dominus,
With whip upon back,
Sweat and floor to replace blood and sand.

I didn’t mean to write this.
I just meant to write one line.

My dog (not ours) tried to bite me today.
The first time since she was a puppy…
I don’t know what else to do but disown her,
Leave her with my parents when I manage to leave again.

I’ve been trying, Grace.
I’ve been trying so god damned hard.
To be better, to be what you saw in me.
But I just don’t know anymore.
Who that is.
If that’s even a pale reflection of the person I’ve become.

I think about you often, the specter of memory still haunting me;
I see your face in my mind.
Like you’ve died, and I am just waiting to join you.
Wasting my time on distractions.
I’ve loved, but can’t know if I’m in love.
All the experiences that have amounted to right now,
All the travels, conversations, lives I’ve seen from outside a window.
They feel as if leading to nowhere.

I only wanted to write one line…

You were right, I really have forgotten how to forgive – haven’t I?