Elucidating Questions

As the days get longer

My time in this house grows shorter

The house I came to, crying every day

Sliced lifelines

The scars are covered up by Saturn but they poke out and I remember

So clearly how it felt

But I grew stronger and kept going

I slipped

Desperation for love and affection

Cocaine, Meth, Crack

A pillow in my face

I couldn’t breathe

But I grew stronger and kept going

As life gets harder for everyone

Those at the bottom are crushed

But I kept going damn it

One diagnosis, two

Sicker and sicker

I’m still fighting

But all that fighting was hinged on one thing

That I had a home

That I created a tiny world just for me where I could be safe

The walls are drawing in

I don’t know where I’m going

I know I stopped chasing light long ago but it’s incredible how dark it can get

That I’ve come up against every wave

Worse for wear

More exhausted

The well of a human body’s ability to be exhausted runs deep

How it just pulls you down

This desperate struggle

Is it even okay for me to imagine a place for me at the end of this?

Is it fair to a me who may not have that?

When the time comes

Always down to Fate

It always answers by dropping me a few pegs further down

In an “you’re safe, but it’s worse now” way

I’m so sick of worse

And they tell you to fight, but fighting makes people turn on you

What’s the point?

It’ll dare me

Someone will monologue at me about how awful I am and then ask for my opinion

Like I’m stupid

I’m not falling for making the situation worse with myself anymore

There wasn’t enough fight in me to take on the pressure of life and the pressure of other humans in the first place

Life is sick like that.

It’ll beat something out of you and then demand it

Life beat me up so badly I can’t work enough to dream of affording rent

Circumstances

Fucking circumstances

I know my best is easily 30% of what a normal person could offer

But I have no options

Haven’t worked in two weeks

I finally start feeling up to making a dent in my house

But it feels so futile to pack without knowing where I’m going

Am I packing to unpack or packing to put my stuff in a garage for a few years while I suffer?

It always felt like my destiny is to be dead or homeless

Like the Fates dangle me on an ever lengthening string over the embers of life

Where am I going?

Why is the infuriating answer “Home”?

Do you mean now or eventually you riddling mind fuck?

That’s when the silence comes in and I know that there’s no concrete answer as always

I don’t know when this fated meeting is happening

I hate mysteries

And life has made me hate surprises

Can you please tell me where I’m going?

I want to go somewhere where there’s no fight