sometimes it’s just too damn easy

I feel like I’m wasting away in this apartment.

It’s safe,

it’s cheap, and it’s reasonably clean.

It’s a short distance to the bar and close to my family.

The only fault with it

is that I’m living

in it.

My TV is there,

my computer is there

and sometimes my brain is.

I don’t think I can be happy anywhere.

It’s the wanderlust

and the road beckons.

I have it too good, it’s pleasant and easy.

My mind is hijacked

by other things,

that’s the first problem.

Maybe that’s what I should fix first.

Get rid of it.

The distractions

But as any addict,

they stay,

because it’s scary without them.

I never used to be scared

of being alone with myself,

but then again,

I never worried about the future

either.

I ride back home

I took the train back

I always enjoy reading

on the quiet side of the train

you know,

the side that’s supposed to be quiet?

I took my shoes off and put my feet up

When it was my turn to get off

my shoes were gone

Someone took them

The same way I took the train

Hope my shoes made them happier

than the train ride did

Imposter

It was a bad day today

My phone forgot my face

which is telling.

I burned the sauce too and missed the train

It’s one of those days

My face ain’t right

There are too many wrinkles

doubt

annoyance

anger and bitterness

God damn the dog’s whining

Day X – Chores

I forgot to pay the rent.

I found the unopened letter under a stack of papers I was going to use to write today.

I should be fine, but damn, what a slip up.

They might use it as an excuse to kick me out, they aren’t very happy about me.

It’s still early so I’ll have to wait an hour before I can call them and apologize.

So that’s probably the most interesting thing that’s gonna happen to me today,

or in a while, rather.

I’m doing laundry of course.

Running – Poem

He bore through the bushes, running, running

The second he started running he was lost

Twigs and branches whipped him in the behind

The darkness closed in.

He didn’t remember why he was running, only that he was scared.

Scared of who… Scared of what?

Only those running will see the light.

Evidence – Poem

There are ruins after ruins along the road. Sometimes hidden, sometimes plainly seen. 

It’s not a dead world, the ruins are just evidence of the past.

At night they become especially visible, which is ironic.