this constant drama is
chewing me up beyond recognition,
the shouting, the doubting,
the using, abusing, refusing
to look in the mirror and see
a clearer representation of the self,
the truth, the trajectory beyond
youth, beyond anything
but selfish desire.
this impulsiveness might seem
bliss in the moment, until the
moment turns into strings of
accidents, incidents, un-lived
consequences, breaking fences
and barriers, getting scarier,
the anger, the danger, all in
quest of an illusion that’s been
shoved down your throat.
there’s nothing left for me to do,
I’ve tried and tried, nearly died
and all you do is chew, chew, chew,
crunching my body, my bones,
my sanity, my home, my clothes
are torn, skin is burned,
this constant drama grinding me
in its mechanical teeth, down
into tiny bits of mush.
