Depleted

It’s late at night
and I have watched the love
of others.

The white lines on the road causing
things to change, turn
drive off.

And I am so up and ready
I am so much and there
I am.

It’s taking all this control not to
move there, be everything; scream from
the rafters.

Or is it cry into the self-pity?
Pull the knife out and watch the blood stain
the waters,

cram everything back down to
stand behind the counter again.
Self esteem.

So its like this blustery storm that
makes your hair fly and your eyes…
Its like…

The madness inside that violent rain that
slams into the pavement and dances
back up.

Its saturation and depletion
It’s a frustration and melancholy exhaustion that;
Kills you.