Posted on

worthwhile

im finding it very difficult
to be happy with the things in my life
i dont know
if this is just my malcontent
or the thing my mother calls
your chronic unhappiness
dysthymia
the half empty heart
my half full glass
of bourbon
kentucky style
like my father
i dont have much
to say about him
i dont have much to say
these days
i lay
i pray i wonder
where i am
if im going or staying
if im losing or winning
if i believe all the things i tell you
if i believe in anything
i tried to look for forest spirits
but the trees are all gone
concrete doesn’t listen
like the earth used to
the stars are a burning ballet
and i know that most of them
have stopped dancing
so long ago
that their bones are black holes
i worry
that my children
will never see the wolves
i worry
that i will never hear them sing
that they have fallen with the other legends
of nature
i plead with something they call god
i ask him to end us
we have taken our share and theirs
we have built and broken
we are the plague, the rats who carry it
i am the good man who watches and does nothing
frozen
but my heart melts
and aches while they scream against our tides
i think you all fell in love with me while i was sleeping
because i dont remember the moment
you decided i was something
worth saving.
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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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