It’s 11:30 p.m. and once again I’m staring at the clock wondering what time I’ll end up under the covers tonight.
I drove up to the river parking lot and sunk down in my leather seats listening to the same song play over and over again. I imagined something different than this.
I wanted to believe this wasn’t my life.





I contemplated the life I never could understand myself…
I toyed over useless thoughts in my head and stumbled on ignorant brain tissue.
And fallen couldn’t even begin to explain how much asphalt has come between these lips in the past month.




I slide out of my car into the cloudy dark sky where a tiny drop of floating sun hangs over the Court Street Bridge bouncing off green water.
And maybe just this once, I thought it was beautiful.
I walked the rail on the wooden tracks before stumbling over them.





My mind slips into the lives of other people sitting on the wooden benches on the dock.
As they giggle and laugh, I sit on top of the concrete wall smoking a cigarette, half listening, half drowning out the world with the Saginaw River.





I look for nothing in this world, but manage to find the beauty in everything.
Even with my pessimism, I’m so optimistic in you.
And I could never understand why I try so hard for others.
But embrace the betrayal and beat downs in myself.





I walk along a path trying to watch something form out of nothing that I can never keep created.
And I feel like I’m constantly molding play dough… but everything falls through my hands before I can even stick it together to make sense of it all.
I walk a line through my mind viewing and reviewing floating memories.
And the future is always at my fingertips.
As I’m never in the present.





I make conclusions out of fragments and hope that it makes sense to you as I’m picking up the pieces that I’ve started to lose.
I don’t speak my mind when the question of “what’s wrong” slides under my skin.
Only because it would never make any sense to you.
That’s a promise.





I’ve crawled out of some kind of deep pit that I’ve been digging for months.
And now that I’m out I can’t remember feeling anything but the dull sensation of bundle emotions slapping my in the face.
I’m that numb.
And it piles up like books when you have no shelves.
You can only stack them so high before one by one they slide across the floor.
And it’s only a matter of time until you have to start all over.
I’m about to start over.






My own self-hatred deepens as I stare at the green water watching empty bottles and miscellaneous things find a landing on piled rocks.
And I’m mad at everyone for doing nothing to me.
Yelling and screaming out every emotion but saying nothing of how I feel.
Just to feel that I have control.
That sanity.
To let me know that I haven’t completely lost it all yet.






It’s like being trapped underwater.
Everything that is constant and beautiful in life is above you.
While the negativity surrounds you underneath…
Your soul tightens against your ribs.




All you have to do is reach the top…




Just breathe.





And could it be that easily to let all the past and the entire present slide through your fingers?
To live like it could be your last.
To live.
In today.





What happens when you walk that rail too slow, not crossing them right away when a train is blaring at you and your waiting for it’s next move as you contemplate your last?
Why do we think of nothing, but think of everything at the same time as it hits you in your gut and you walk on like nothing ever happened.
Like you can’t feel the dull existence of pain grabbing at you.
At unattended emotions longing for something other than neglect.





& I’m frozen. But melting.
Into a pile of myself on a concrete floor smoking another cigarette watching the ashes hit the water so still.
And melting away like they were never really there at all.
& I’m that ash.
Dissolving.




As if I never really existed at all.






I sink into the seat of my car as I turn the key into ignition.
Pretending that I never saw anything at all.
& I’ll go home falling into a hole to sleep.





Waking up.
Half melting & staring at the clock.
Lighting a cigarette.
Reminding myself to breathe.

















12:24 a.m.