Not a poem
I’m just using this as a way to talk
And feel like I’m not talking to myself.
This is not a poem
When I was a kid I thought the future would be better, not worse!
Haha…haha.. damn!
I dreamt of the future, of everything I was going to do, the man I was going to be
I didn’t know I was going to be that fat, poor, single, 35-year-old loser!
If I could go back in time and give advice to my younger self
It would be to kill yourself now! It’s not going to get better!
You will never love yourself
No one will ever love you
You will never be strong enough to chase what you want in life
You will never be strong enough
You will always be empty and lost and wandering
And the world will blame everything on you
Because you’re a man
You’re a white man
Therefore everything, is always, your fault
Just deal with it and “be a man”
Damn!
Shit!
I didn’t know life was just gonna get worse!
You drift empty and alone, and when people see you struggling
Your own family will spit on you and shame you.
Jesus…
What was the point??
Death is the only hope I have left
The last great mystery
I used to think I might find love and belonging and wonders outside my door
There isn’t any
Life is a cold and barren wasteland, it always has been, and likely always will be
We don’t all get to find peace, and love, and safety and strength and warmth.
You’re not the main character, this isn’t your story
You’re just a conscious scrap of nothingness, lost in the wind
I have no more hope
I haven’t had hope for years
I just got angry, and fought against the knife, with my pride
My pride wrestled my car back to the road
My pride pushed me back from the ledge
Because…
I “deserve” more than this
But I can’t….
I’m just a mortal human, I can’t bear this.
The only hope, and wonder that exists
Is on the other side of death
Damn!
What the fuck happened?
The crazy thing is
The older I get
The more surreal it all is…
The more it feels like all of this, is just…a mirage
I’m not gonna kill myself
But shit…I can’t wait to die