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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