In a public bathroom stall at work;
I’ve reached a new level of ineptitude.
Sobriety removes the veil
Of disillusionment
And reality comes crashing in
Like a pileup on a one lane state highway.
Emotional immaturity and
A willingness for anaesthesia,
Willful amnesia.
I have bankrupted myself
Of feeling.
Thirty years old
With a penchant for hiding
From pain.
Dull out the darkness
And pretend.
I don’t even know how to be
A good friend
Anymore.
I thought before
At times
That I had lost control,
But to really feel it,
This is something else.
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