life oscillates
between
dreamlike splendor
and
nightmare hellscape
with little
area to differentiate
the boundaries
betwixt the two.

why does every
new opportunity
feel so goddamned
hollow
unwarranted
undeserved

my mind fights
to determine
my reality
and i am tired
of putting up
the good fight

a pillow filled
with unwanted adoration
a ceiling bored
of logical fallacies
in circular progression
as i bleed out
in semiliterate prose
uncertain of which
new disaster will
drunkenly stumble
into my black cat path