December Traps

November 7, 2011


Times like now,

I need the answers more than anything.

I need to fucking tear something apart,

and leave it all behind.


I know there's a pattern to all this chaos,

and I've been sitting by for years thinking

"That's just the way it fucking goes!"

You're fucked.

Eternally, naturally, unstoppably.



No amount of rage,

no anguish, no happiness,

momentary joy

could dissolve this pill now.

The bitter sick lost-lusted

game, I've always meant to quit.


And you just taunt me.

The devil even wants a part.


It makes singing fingertips

an appealing sense

a moment in time,

I'd like to freeze and frame.


I can't find any other way to dispel the sensations.

To lose the vertigo

and just die.

I can't think of any other way

to run far enough away,

so it can't catch me anymore.

Stop chasing me.


It's been a while,

but not nearly long enough.


It's been a while,

and you're still fucking here.


No words to describe.

No thoughts to process.

Again, I can't organize this

shithole of a life.

Not even all the good

could take away this cloudy cover.


Not all the fucking adrenaline,

dopamine, endorphins, lies and tally's

could end this internal feud.

No amount of therapy,

no number of aids,

no friends. No hour of running

could ever actually

help me escape.