I’m goin down

Down down down in a sea of self-loathing. I failed, and I let my life partner stomp and shit all all over me, and I live in a country of self-serving bottom-feeders.

Down down down. There's nothing here for me.

When self-loathing washes up on your shores, there’s no qamount of detergent that will clean up the mess. 

I need to stop but I don’t know how. You’d think after all the help I’d have a clear answer. But I don’t know much of anything. I am nor much of anything. I am David. Here alone for no purpose. 

Hear the echo? The overnight coyote?  The pure of my cat.  The warm air from the furnace blower.  It’s run all winter without problems. Snow is coming now. Maybe. 

But no help is on the way now.  I don’t know what would matter if it did. I won’t ever know what would matter either. The answers stopped coming and I can’t be still. 

I can’t cope ha ha.  Can I move my limbs?  What works and what doesn’t, right.  Let’s run a check. I’d like some evidence of love. Some evidence of snow or vowels.  I can’t do hate well, but what other option would seem logical to you?preparing for it now. Nigh neigh my girlfriend in the pasture. Let the trellis fall under the weight of the red fruit. Drawing the leaves and stems dead and alive with them toward the damp earth. 

I’m breaking in two or more. Where’s my centering tendency?  With the plants. They are still other than when gusts arise and jostle us. 

When things go dark the emotion is so raw—shame, anxiety, anger, violation, isolation, loss.  All screaming for airtime and none interested in sharing.