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To Hell With It All
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Personal (Melancholy) Sometimes it's hard to feel
like my existence is more
than just taking up space.
At some point being
soft spoken and compliant
backfires and comes back
at me like a boomerang.
Everything in me
wants to say
"To hell with it all."
Because that's how I feel...
I feel like my life
has become this hell.
I'm a walking corpse.
Bones and blood
and jagged breath.
There's a pressure on my chest
like I'm caving in,
imploding from all
these expectations
I'm afraid I can't fulfill.
At the same time
I feel like if
I fell off the face
of the earth,
no one would bat an eyelash.
I don't know which circumstance
weighs heavier on me
but combined,
they make me lose
the will to live.
They bear down on me;
stress compressing
like unwanted CPR
that attempts to mold me
into a box that
I could never fit.
It drains the life
out of me to the point
that I'm a zombie after 5 PM,
completely useless
for the rest of the day.
I can't help thinking
that the only way
to shut off these thoughts
is to end myself.
To hell with it all.
If you can write out the struggle,
..which you have done incredibly well, as far as I can see, then you can - piece by piece - get to solutions that feed the deepest, most meaningful desires of your soul. Traps are laid for all of us by the world we live in, and I'm not sure that any of us can possibly avoid them. But feeling their jaws and teeth means you are so very much alive, and the energy will be there to pry yourself free.
You are more than just taking
You are more than just taking up space. You are one of postpoems' great ones, and your poetry bears witness that encourages others. The after five oclock drainage is, I suspect, a phenomenon of modern society; especially those of us who do not numb our brains after five with the inanity of the idiot box. But you are far more than a mere taking up of space. Elements that were fused together in the cores of stars constitute you physically. Your poetry gives us the record of your soul's existence. Much more than just taking up space . . .
Starward