Sublime Thoughts

Woke up feeling like death, the medication finishing the bleeding out process.

Every single thought brings me back...making me question my decisions: "Was I wrong?", "Was it right?", "How did it come to this?" and more then I can recall.

I want anger and rage to pilot me a course out.
Instead all I see is finger nails painted red, digging into my skin.
Poorly dressed metaphors too stoned to put their clothes on and instead try to hide in plain sight.

The only lie, the sweetest one, is the one I heard.
I think it was from me but I'm not sure.
Addictions...lines of lies, bottles of staunch falsified hope behind me and inside...maybe You.

This epic waste, this failure coated in time and sealed in plastic.
Keeping hope as a distant and proverbial type, the sort you wouldn't want to take home to mom.

Ready too late...or too soon depending on how your view of time...being literal or maybe just metaphysical constructs...derisive spittle...confusion laced tears.

I hate medication, much less medication which fades out leaving side effects and just pain. Promoting this aging, falling apart body that is about decay.

It's being revised as we speak...dealing with idiots is tiring but you should try living with myself.

Revised blueprints about how it's a failure is something else unknown and entirely unknown.

Preceding...a process...thoughts...unredeemed.
Forgiveness being a luxury I've lived without.
Just like...love.
Dripping dots, water spots.
Failing down.