You never left.

too stressed to rest, I’d realize as I got undressed.
your eyes, never quite impressed but you’ll settle for second best, I guess. forever searching for what’s next to digest the regret that you never actually address.

numbing

Hands as soft as the fragility of your ego
You compensate by making every woman whom you encounter feel disposable.
Erasable
God forbid you actually show yourself
your goals.
What makes you whole
Or what would feel that hole inside of you
That you desprately try to fill
with women and substances that make you ill.

look what you made me do

Forever scathingly searching for content to fill the vapid hole that is your existence.
you live by the adage that bliss is ignorance.

The devil’s in the details, you know all too well.
Just gotta keep it moving, better not dwell.

you’ve created your own personal hell.
but your ego only allows you to tell yourself you’re doing well.
The ship to stability has long since sailed.

it feels like..

It’s a fight you can only stand up against if you’re ready. Sometimes, you’re not even ready. You sleep on it, fumble with the idea. but you’re just not quite ready to be finished with chasing that thrill. Who is? It never stops feeding some sort of satisfaction, but you’re just quite tired of your actions. you’ve grown quite weary..of the lies. and the apologies.

Change is happening, in a slow, insecure, way. and often change comes just like that, life has shown me. I’ve had to learn that making change often doesn’t feel like paving the way. But more like turning left at the intersection instead of right, and making that a permanent fixture in your journey.