it’s cold

it’s cold
in the apartment
in a hoodie and
a beanie
shivering under
a gray blanket
waiting until
next weekend
for the kids
to turn on
the heat
rather than
waste money on
for simple comfort

rationing coffee
stretching out
rice and beans
so i can avoid
going anywhere
as the depression
leaves my tongue
unresponsive and
the words unfit

it has been a
struggle with a
long week at work
fighting traffic
for hours
to and from
sitting in parking lots
because going home
to the cold silence
is somehow worse
than watching how
self centered
humanity is
when my sense of
self is deficient
at the very best

given up on
understanding or
being understood
accepting i am
just one step lower
on the evolutionary
ladder or possibly
one step to
the side as my
humanity was beaten
into a pulp
the same as my
sense of self
a scarred gorilla
who learned just
enough sign language
to beg my jailers
to end this facade
as i sit in a cage
of my own device

nothing makes me
feel as alone
as the holidays
knowing i have only
time between
fleeting moments
of existence
in which to ponder
why i am not worthy
of more than the
bare minimum
knowing it is my
own damn fault for
putting everyone else
first and watching as
i am forgotten
relegated to
the background of
my own miserable fugue

it’s cold
and only the birds
and airplanes
break the quiet
a surplus of
what i deserve
in the ashes of
things i begged for
but i have
my hoodie and
my beanie and
a gray blanket
to go with the
fire ants in my stomach
and the cluster in
my cavernous skull

that has to be
enough for a fool
dancing in the
line between
living and surviving


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