2:22 PM, I’m ready to go “home”. Already here working. Violating the sanctity of my art room/”office”. 2:23 PM and still ready to go “home”. 1½ hours until the weekend. Then I can really get down to nothing.
Lost in the Forest
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I think I have grand ideas, but who am I kidding? I really don’t. Little facelift here, maybe it’ll help. Maybe I’ll wait for search and rescue…
Open the door, I’m here
Fallen by the wayside, I’m coming back.
I’m coming back.
Ideas flying around in my head and…
I’m coming back.
See you soon, whoever you are.
Where, oh where…
Always feel like I’m doing something wrong. It never goes away. It follows me home and lives in the closet. This place isn’t healthy, mentally or physically. The distress, the people, the smells. I don’t know if I can take much more. Maybe I’ll give it a year. Maybe not. We’ll see.
I’m well aware that no one likes me; you don’t have to keep trying to imply otherwise.
I’m trying to come back.
Welcome (back)
I’m sorry for
being a pest.
I’m sorry for
being annoying.
Sorry for being
myself.
Ebb and Flow
stranger in my own home
that’s how it goes.
thank you for the invite,
i was going to be here anyway
you’re not here.
you’re not there.
maybe that’s gonna be ok…
maybe i needed you to talk to.
stranger in my own home–
alone in a crowd–
story of my life.
one day i’ll move away from you (all).