inspired to expire

a flurry of
anxious energy
half way into a
panic attack
only to be safe
and secured to
the couch as
agitated punk
plays loudly out
into the sleepy
apartment complex
of simplified
prison cells

i read that
you should work out
when the depression
gets to be
too much to handle
so my every muscle
is torn and aching
yet the dark arms
of the ever present
swirling abyss
pull at the
lactic acidity
of a soul lost in
dark tiding as
the sun refuses
to rise and burn
away the shadows

it takes a near
superhuman effort
to minimize myself
as easily as
the rest of the world
forgets my existence
when i cannot escape
this bone penitentiary
this haunted asylum
of fevered truths
whistling through
the bare branches of
the hanging tree
beckoning coyly
from the the courtyard

i cannot write
a story if i cannot
see the ending
so maybe it is time
to begin to
scribble down some
sort of autobiography
as i practice
tying thirteen loops
waiting for the
limbs to thicken
enough to handle
a fool swinging
in a placidity of
false hopes
worried all of this
will never end
despite best intent

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