Tired of Being Sad
For: That Random Mound of Sand in the Sun
As I put my drink on the night stand; promising myself that I am not going to do it.
I still do.
I push its head under, submerging its life in a lake of past joy,
irreplaceable happiness and a love that will never be mine.
While it struggles, fighting for its life
I apply more force, ensuring it drowns today
Hopeful that its death is my elation tomorrow
So I take another sip.
It won't die! What if "it"can't die, Maya?
But everyone hates me for it, its stench is repugnant, attitude malignant,
it stands tall with a backbone made of arrogance
it lies down and wraps itself cozily in a quilt made of guilt, regret, unspoken words and time I can't get back.
It is driving away the people I love.
And will assure that anyone I plan to love — never will be worthy.
So I take another sip, trying my best to drown it
About the Creator
Stephen Flores Jr.
Excerpts from the book I'll probably never write.
#YuhPa
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