melancholy

I feel like I've lost an important part of myself. maybe many important pieces. there were once so many things that mattered to me, that I have let fall away because of convenience. in many ways, I've become a person I once would have looked down on. I don't live up to my ideals anymore. I am often afraid and don't leave the house. I have little space in my community. I've been kicked out again.
I am letting myself drift to the center, while detritus circles me. I can't reach any of it, arms outstretched regardless. there are small fragments I can almost touch, ghostly sensations to my fingertips, slowly curling back into fists. I have tried this how many times now? someday I'll recognize that there is no place for me.

some unfinished business

it's embarrassing to look into the mirror,
there's a new me there where the old once stood
and as much as I thought I'd like me
I still don't see who I am.

it's embarrassing to read old stories
coming here feels like someone else
I miss so many people now
I miss almost as much as I forget.

but I still conflate them and this
still draw lines between the unrelated,
keeping myself as center as possible,
feeling shame still for my flaws.

trying to make things sound good is too hard these days.
trying to sum up my life is too much.
I could apologize to everyone for everything
but I'm waiting to hear from them first.

I don't want to be sad or melancholy.
I don't want to hurt others.
I don't want to write anymore.
I don't want to follow old paths.

I'm doing my best, and sadly,
that's all I've ever done.
sometimes my best looks a lot like the worst,
and sometimes it's just me disappearing.