maybe
the problem with me
came about
in the assembly

two parts
teenage lust
one part
accidental pregnancy
two lives
ruined
beat
until frustration is gone

apply a series
of doomed
relationships
vigorously add
anxiety
depression
loathing (self preferably)

leave
a trail of breadcrumbs
in the truancy
of hope

then
let loose upon the world
with a box of crayons
to scribble words
of defeat
on the sides
of buildings

make sure he knows
at all times
it is all his fault
(whether true or not)

sprinkle kindness
to make the hurt
more poignant

set a plan
make him
look forward
to the next
great adventure

then pull the rug
so humpty dumpty
the failed poet
falls and breaks
again

it seems so simple

when they had
the directions
they couldn’t see
the dyslexia present
in the shaking hands
of the unqualified
instructor
they just pieced it all together
willy nilly
unaware
that you don’t need
to apply
so much pressure

he can handle that
just fine
himself