I'm edgey.
Twitching.
Waiting.
Begging.
Time.
Thief of all my peace.
But at least it smells like my childhood again.
Sapphire sky.
Whiffs of cool.
Promises of cold cider and turkey sandwiches.
Echoes. Ages.
It all passes.
Mocking me.
Haranguing me in front of all my imaginary friends.
I hate where I am.
But I can stomp it out.
Put my heel into the base of its spine and push.
If I just work.
If I just be a man.
Submit.
Accept.
Reject.
All in due
matter of
waste of
time.
But if I can just be a master.
Offer my self. Prove my self.
I can finally be
worth a
good
god
damn
I'm so fucking worthless.
