Noose
How is it I've been fighting the same enemies everyday
as if any of the problems are new
I'm so sick of the ropes
slipping in the door cracks, unsealed windows,
secretly slipping down as I walk under trees
casting the same shadows as always
yet still laying across the worn pavement as always
nothing ever really changes,
does it
its always going to creep back
I fight the things
of which I share the same face
5 steps forward and 4 steps back
sometimes I'm missing hours
days
months
but I can't seem to lose it all
the memories are intoxicating
feelings of morbid joy
as if chaos is the only home in which I find peace
like the absence of sound prevents sleep
and lack of misery prohibits pleasure of joy
I can feel the knots tightening
each day
holding me at the mercy of my own self hatred
so much regret after glimmers of what happy could be
and I'll never know if I made the right decisions
until its too late I suppose
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