I was born on top of a pothole sinking always sinking born on top of too many expectations I could never fill the edges of born holding a name that weighed more than me than I could ever hope to be born on a pothole born to fill other potholes the ones under this house we keep building bigger filling with newer things it keeps sinking thinking the wrong things fill holes sprinting sprinting to wrong finish lines I will never reach the end I will never stand tall enough to climb out of it the things I stand on evaporate I need better grounds I need better grounds in the judgement in their eyes there are potholes in expectations potholes inflating over years inflating like a thirst where you drink everything except water drink salt water say you just need to drink more but there is nowhere else to drink it from except create wells out of other lives depleting without replenishing it is dominos I was born to quench thirsty unhappinesses I will not draw my own tonic from others I will bend the dominos back step outside of this race there is no happiness where I am from only fear only satiation I want to take the claws out of my eyes and stop living lives to fill holes dug from the wrong shovels
YOU ARE READING
We Are Drowning, How Should We Kill Our Time?
PoetryThis collection of stream of consciousness prose was written during a very special time in my life. I left the city following a massive burnout, and lived in the country for months. I began a garden, cut most of my ties to the outside world, and wro...
