The fine line between deadline and flatline
a tight rope I walk for the entertainment of gathered masses.
“If you started sooner you wouldn't be rushing”
“If you took the time you could put out better work”
This is all I hear from the hecklers in the balcony
Again and again and again and again;
as though I don't know better,
like if they point this out I'll just get it together.
I wanted to start in october and now we're pushing may
and I'm just too fucking lazy to count the days I've wasted away
There's always something easier'
“I'll read a book or three”
“I'm in the planning stages”
“I just need some time for me”
My depression is like a dirty window on a hazy summer day
I can see the green of trees outside as in the breeze they sway
A breeze I'll never feel because carefree just ain't me
A jealousy for sturdy roots to hold me above the fray
My anxiety is a needy dog when its owner is not at home
I hope you'll ignore the garbage I ate if I look cute holding a bone
I wag my tail and do tricks for treats as my mind wanders and roams
fetch and “good boy” are just so hard when I know soon again I'll be alone
If I took the time to edit and proof read I'm sure this poem could be good
But if I tried doing that then I feel like it wouldn't be my own
I'll leave it as is broken and messy because that's how I feel inside
Melodramatic and unenthusiastic with all these neuroses at my side.
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