Again

I bite off more than I can chew
again
and again,
The cycle doomed to repeat itself until I’m dead.
My plate is overflowing
I don’t think I can eat it all
Gotta hurry up, the second course is coming
An extra side dish I didn’t order is sent
again, And again,
I want to starve, the turkey’s carved
I’m not a fat cat, they keep filling my plate up
Looking for a new way to say,

I think I’ve had enough
I’m fed up again.
Can’t do the impossible
Can’t drown in the desert
Can’t drain a stone of a drop of blood
Working on accepting what I can’t change
I’m stuck in the mud,
again.
It’s alright (it’s alright)
There are burdens I’ll learn to deal with
Time will teach me to conquer them, again,
Then time will conquer me someday (Time conquers all)
Time heals and kills
again and again.

Either

Lean into the wind

head-first, dive into the water

when you can’t see the bottom,

you can’t see the top

either

idiotic or genius, choose for yourself

how your actions should be perceived

is your own decision

the best or most harmful?

Can these be one in the same?

/
 Genius

Boxed In

Time reclaims its grip tightly again
Follow the path for long enough,
tracing all its bends,
then deal with the relapse when it comes.
All the answers are locked behind the same wall,
all hidden in the same box
Can’t help but wonder who has the key
There’s got to be a way to manipulate these things.
Pulling the curtain might be the last thing I want to do
(leave it all out in the open)
The freshest air always gets tainted
The best of all timing always gets wasted
This feels like an experiment gone wrong
Sometimes things just go awry,
not every single bird knows how to fly.
‘Get me the hell out of here,’ I’m always thinking
Then what am I doing always coming back
I’m trying to get the hell out
bags are already packed
There’s a box waiting for me and you and you
and all of us
I had no premonition to prevent this
but even if I had,
I never would’ve learned then
Unlocked the box with all the answers
I should’ve burned instead.

Bottomless Cup

Caught on to how everything is temporary, 

From conceited narcissist 

to humble and self-deprecating, 

There’s a place where doing nothing 

blends into overcompensation. 

The luxury of being stuck in the middle is

not being stuck at all, 

Getting out is as easy as saying, “Left or Right,”

“Yes or No,”

Giving Up or Deciding to Fight. 

Leaving the top is a painful comedown, 

and leaving the bottom is a challenge,

Dropping from the top is rarely intentional

and climbing from the bottom takes all this time and effort 

So I choose this deep in between

where I can determine on my own what everything means.