I dont know when i hit rock bottom
but i know as the days go
it seems that i hit it more often
that pit in my stomach
the clog of my throat
the blood pressure
passing through my heart
the lost of…
feels like its ready to explode
out my chest
talking about grasping
Talking about suppressing
i find my therapy
stressing
unrelenting
depressing,
anxiety fleshing a quandary
killing myself with prying
i dont even know if i`m dying
anger is next
one of the feelings i rarely get
i never let alot take me there
a duck in water
every and all things
need to run off my back
cant afford any extra weight
the hate
the despair
let it all wash me off
displace and disappear
sidenote
I enjoy the dry air up here
to bad its so thin
no traveling
it cant take me somewhere
i’m trying to get far away
From this place that leads to nowhere…

(C) Da Absentee 2013