threading
the needle
between
giving up
and giving in
looking for a
life balance
where giving
isn’t the
only option

giving up
writing time
to fix another
set of lockers
giving in
to anxieties
as i grow old
and have not
scarred art
in any truly
debilitating matter

giving in
to the constant
fear and uncertainty
of a fascist regime
giving up
on hope anyone
will do anything
as we bide time
until total collapse

giving up
on being anything
other than alone
by giving in
to seeking some
inner peace

giving in
to exhaustion
from giving up
on any hope

emptied of any
and all intentions
finally understanding
why deer freeze
in the face of
impending doom
yet sprint away
from a broken twig

strung out
from constant stress
and the drugs
make the silence
fucking scream

giving up
on giving in
or giving in
to giving up
making lateral
moves while
preparing for
a final descent