I am so sad and there's nothing I can do, well that's not true, I can do my nails and take a shower, I can get dressed and go to work, I can glue myself together and hope that it will hold, yet, sometimes I feel I am headed for a break, like just the other day when my world had turned grey and I fought back the tears and so misunderstood, it took all that I could not to go back and fight, but to give up on the chance to make things all right... yes, it was right around then as I pulled to the curb, slow-cooked my head and sat there disturbed, as the breeze off the delta came whipping around, that I said to myself in a scared voice asking god, is it gunning for me, my psychotic break? Will I sink to the bottom of this salt water lake? I could feel my heart was not into the commitment of losing my mind to starfish and brine, I could feel that my heart preferred to stay sad maybe shocked after my spirit got clocked and devastated so quickly, after such a good run before sands got so shifty.
The only big difference I saw from the past, the last time a friend dropped me hard on my ass, was my own situation how far I have come, 'cause back then I was full of nonsense and chewing gum, unable to work and basically done, no longer young, cold-spirited idle and sometimes suicidal. And the friend and ex-lover whom I lost at that time, carries all those qualities still so I can see through her how I have changed, how that is no longer me. But I don't need to look back anymore or compare, I don't need to be faced with a mirror and stare, to know how I have stretched for my dreams to this place, it's written in my eyes, it's visible in my face, but more essentially woven into my whole character, and though I may fall back upon self-treacherous times, in a moment subdued by a flashback or heartache, and go into madness and anger and venom, and say things I long since stopped saying, and panic and fear and confusion can enter the room... I am essentially goodness and warmth and white light, by noon I will have come out of the darkest of night, and back to my senses and self and clarity, the departure of all fear, weakness and irregularity, where in the cool silence of my study I see, my journey is there, patiently waiting for me...this may not be so, but I hope so to dream of a chance to shine if only to be a lighthouse standing tall, for all the ships out there heading straight for disaster, may I at very least be a star obsolete to guide you, an aster.
