these last two weeks have been a real rollercoaster ride

the job fell through and couldn’t pay me for services rendered

so i had to kindly tell them to choke to death on their incompetence

but the kids were here

and even broke and stressed out at the newest wave of fecal matters of business

i had them

and cuddles

now we sit at the peak of the final night

they go back tomorrow

i start a new job tuesday

the stinging hooks of bleak depression begins to set in and grind my organs into paste

frantic worry and nerves about what the next chapter holds like a vortex in my chest

i already wonder how i will manage to cope with the silence

the drive back alone without them

putting on the mask and learning a new set of complex machinery to service

i don’t want any of it

wish i could just sit and write

somehow scrape a living from the words that will flood my head as the quiet does nothing to stamp them down again

wish i had someone to at least share the misery with

to dampen the hurt

but the poet illiterate and his empty kingdom of foolish odes is alone

the lonely fool on his sage colored couch watching the shadows grow on the ceiling

telling himself this too will pass

like a kidney stone

or a shard of glass lodged in my esophagus

ripping and tearing as it slowly inches into the pit in my stomach

i taste copper and bile

the salt of tears long since reduced to just grains falling from defunct tear ducts

pity party

table for one

right next to the restrooms on all you can eat expired clam night

this too shall pass

and a hundred depressing line shall be uttered into the dark lonely night

again