A mindstorm of numbness surrounds my head.
I feel like my world is already dead.
Where do I go from here but down?
I do not try to swim, I merely wish to drown…

I enter the crevice of solitude and silence
As the wind pushes my rage into epic violence
And I strike out at those around me
Because they are the only ones I see…

For some reason they stick around
As I flail and finally fall to the ground
In tears of anger and frustration I scream…
It’s too bad this is not just a dream.

Fatherhood should be mine!
When did I lose all that time?
I grow old and sorrowly wither
Like a snake I want to slither
Away from all that pains me
To a place that will sustain me.

But that world has gone away
And thus must I stay.
The sun shines on the horizon,
Yet inspiration eludes my visions
As I attempt to create what no one has seen before.
Something special, something more…

I fade away in an apathetic mist of fog
And thus ends this depressing log.



The illustrious design of my mental anxiety has come to a fruition in this poem. Many ambitions and desires revolve about every word, phrase, and twisted ensemble of meanings which lie behind these sentences. It is all in my head, these thoughts and misdeeds. My unanswered questions and unfulfillable hopes of a destiny shattered…

My reflections on this reality have been fueled by childhood fear, combusting into frustration and anger, compressed by the gaskets of my personality, the better to exhaust them before the fumes kill us all. Ahh, how my brother must enjoy that previous sentence… being a mechanic.