It surrounds us, marinating, in our ignorance,
As we proceed unaware, detached from cognition,
Strung out, in the oblivious, unsuspecting of our ghost,
Clutching, at the dried up leaves, playing in the snowing ash
Until you’re alone, telling yourself, it’s familiar,
You’ve grown into this storm, and become accustomed
To the edge of the moment, waiting to be tipped over,
Hanging on as the ground withers, blends into the fall
And you’re done, regrets crowd the space, you’ve once occupied,
But no matter, there’s plenty to follow those hackneyed mistakes,
Drowning their sadness in shallow waters, black and cold,
Why do we all have our epiphany, when we’re in waste,
Gasping for relief, while they’re burying themselves,
Forcing deliverance further away, for we’re our punisher,
It festers beneath our skin, keeping us a slave
To the rot, as we are all caught in it’s daunting tangle,
Yet, we ignore it all, until it’s deafening growls
Strikes us still, looking back at the missed captures,
Finding ourselves within the break between seconds,
Scared, of who we see reflected back at us, a stranger,
Yet we recognize this shadow, it’s been perched
Above our heads, whispering distractions, leading us to dark,
Deeper into the gullet, until we’re withdrawn,
Alone, telling ourselves, it’s our fault,
For we truly are, our own, worst enemies,
Our focus is on the rest of the world,
That has already passed judgment,
As we carry out our own punishment of self doubt.
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