It depends on the day

Whether I feel the need to prod myself for an innate thought

I bask in the inane shallowness that is myself

My eyes still sting when the saltiness of the sea washes into them

I juggle and shift my past memories around trying to rearrange my dissatisfaction

I honestly do not feel anymore

I wanted it all--------

 

Ennui engulfs the days

The placement of eyes seem to bug on these days

They do not match with my nose

I want eyes to see me how I want to see me

I sit in the stagnant phase

Knowing only of one catalyst to start the movement

I could have it all--------

 

As I compare myself with other beings

I find myself lost in a field, even if I am not drowning

Ghostly beats remind me of a similar beat I carry, but

They are not the same

There is me and there is them

Across I view but progress with masking strides

Becoming synonymous with the tides

 

In the comprehensive sea I see nothing but a lack of strategy

My shoulders are locked and knees fixed

I could cry, but that is Fruitless,

Hoot, Hoot

I still do carry myself well, whole

 

I know they say not to lean on others

But you offer the support I need

I do not love

I feel pride, and I commend in this ubiquitous storm

My selfishness is no longer apparent

Altruism was my goal this whole time

I’m in this ocean alone, but I do have a raft

It is fine

If I do not have it all

 

Thank you, I’m fine