No bar is good enough for me anymore
No coffee shop
No sentence
No word
None of it
Feels
Right
Not anymore
Something changed
And now
I am restless again
I can’t find a place
Or a head-space
To write
All I want to do
Is
Have sex
And not worry
About my book
And this poetry
That I still
Make myself do
It isn’t flowing out
Like it used too
And I am stuck
Searching
For a new place
To settle into
Idea’s come
But usually
When I can’t write them down
And they slip away
Like yesterday . . .
I am looking for someone
But driving
Everyone else away
And it slips away . . .
Like yesterday . . .
I am hungry for something
That doesn’t exist
Blaming everything on the outside
For the broken insides
Feeding myself
Lies
A perpetual state of
Lies
So I keep getting high
Even when my throat
Swells shut
I smoke
And try to laugh off yesterday
Like it was a bad joke
And hope
Seems like a
Hope
These days
Everything is just out of reach
Like tomorrow
Like
Yesterday . . .
And it just
Fades
Away . . .
And is gone
Forever . . .
Another day
Into the never
Wishing to be better
Hoping to be clever
But never
Is never
And it last for
Forever
Yet
It still
Finds a way
To slip away . . .
-C.H.