Blots

|How much|

I really want know how much I've grown;
What I have held and what I have discarded
What I have thrown away, what I have guarded,
What sins have I for further to atone?

My senses have begun to set in stone,
I'm stagnant as a poet, a friend, a boy
I'm gripped in fear, I'm ripped of love and joy,
And tears are stifled as my seeking moans

Within my skull ripple and jar my heart,
In cages ribs can never comprehend,
I'm floating free before the doomed descent
And partly hoping for the fall to start.

Is it my friends who form a piece of me?
I'll be abusing them if I say yes,
For friendship never stays in my unrest-
I only thrive in happy company.

It's not their fault; it's just the way I am
The kind to curl up in a ball and cry
And hope I'm lifted to a world of lie;
A world without this incessant bedlam.

I'm wiser; that's what I believe at least
And sadder; that's what mom and dad observe
Their love's another thing I don't deserve-
When was the last I ever saw them pleased?

I'm worried this is how I'll always be
The smoky night shall never come to pass-
My last good day will truly be my last
I'll never rise above my misery.

Provided all of this, I want to know
If I'm a better man than yesterday
Provided yester was a happy day
I really, really, really don't think so.