Wasting away, six months to the day
Not sure what I'm waiting for
Excuses pile up and fall into convenient metaphors
Got caught in the illusion of comfort and content
Reaching for anything to slow down another fictitious descent

Each bottle upside down flooding perception
Another night rerouting liquid deception
Motivation froze like a deer in headlights
Another sip does the trick most nights

A chance to restore slips through
Potential crowds the air, maybe this time ill get a clue
Am I afraid of failure or the responsibility?
The thought always kills me, fracturing my capability

Wish I could just take one step forward and face the fear
Instead I crawl back, shut down, thoughts are unclear.
Even when light dims a path through the misplaced
I'll find a corner that invites me in, what a waste.

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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