I’m trying to figure out life
Not for me but for you too
Where’s the guidebook?
The clearly-written handbook on life?
Trial and error is miserable
Especially when a concrete inner framework is missing
I just want to feel and share joy
But pain is all there is.
I keep eating my regrets for breakfast
And my failures for lunch
By dinner I’m starved, chewing slowly on grief.
I’ve already lost too much
Who knew I would lose so much more
God-forbid if I didn’t have a heavy heart all the time
There must be something in my pain for me.
No one realizes that I’m on the edge
I wear “okay” like skin
I really do apologize for my existence
I did not have a choice.
I’m sorry my death urge is so palpable
While you’re eating your pizza
A dry chunk of food sitting in my throat
Because eating – at least we have that.