Still Here

I just want to crawl into a hole

and disintegrate,

forget this hopeless mess,

this waste of a life,

but I have people,

kids, family, coworkers, friends

who rely on me

or whatever’s left of me,

whatever part of me they still have,

so I have to move my broken legs,

put one mud-slogged foot

in front of the other,

put my hands against the wall,

and push push push,

spin my wheels,

do whatever I can.

I can’t think,

I can’t take a break.

I’m always running on fumes.

I’m always barely surviving,

hanging on to the cliff ledge

by one broken pinky.

But I’m still here.

Do you hear me?

Universe, God, Satan,

whatever it is

that has stacked everything against me.

I’m still here!

Mother fucker.