and every night before bed, thoughts come back, like a bad dream i had once,
or a really pathetic story i hated so much.


fuck you for all false starts. your backwashed ideas
supposing going nowhere neverletting
while sitting up in dirty rooms drinking expirations
cheap beer
just barely chokingdown for no good reason
i hope you see the joke you're making
the self squabbling moments when you say
i'm just a person justaperson for that and
for that reason
the world is here
there have been heavier hands
brows have been furtherfurrowedfucking shit
how can you call yourself
and i don't care just how you do
at all when you wake up alone and the day is yet another
but seemingly so new

you ruin

again comes the millionth chance
to just
andtojust nothing ever happens
the days wear on and you wear yourself thin in broken shoes
i wonder what you're sorry for i wonder why everynight
when you go home
now
when you've completed so-called productive breathing patterns
for the day
why you do
not how
you sorry
piece of shit
i'm sorry
for the both of us
you are just aperson faking it for real
and just
doing is for nothing
at all
in the whole
you're going nowhere.