Wake up
Take my boxers outside
There is one of them
At two of them's house
To remind me
Of how I am not good
Enough to be anyone
In this town but a
Pain in the pu-tootie
With too much stuff
In a house with
Already too much stuff
In it
Like a garage
For motorcycles
That's what I get
It's been like camping
Since I've been back
Here and I don't
Seem to let the free
Furniture go or
The bargains concerning
It so there's less room
Even some plants are
Dying that the four stray
Kittens tipped over
I know I am depressed
When I let my plants
Die
I can never seem
To get my life back
To 2010
When I lived in the same
House for 20 years
And I knew
Where my stuff was
Everything had a place
If my vehicle broke
Down I could walk
To work
Or kind people I
Worked with
Would give me a ride
I wonder if I will
Ever get back
To the organization I
Once knew
As my life seems to be
One continuing frustration
Where people leave me
Afraid to even try
To get out of here
Store my stuff next door
Go live in my
Fifth wheel
Until there is a sewer
System installed next door
But I don't move too fast
Half the time I'm sick
My anxiety disorder
Leaves me afraid
To even go outside
Most of the time
For fear of being
Questioned
Being judged
Getting in trouble
For trying to make
A dream real
Then life lets me feel
Not good enough
Not strong enough
Not skilled enough
Not rich enough
To see the dream through
Especially because I feel
The vibes of hate
From you and you
For just wanting a house
That's all mine
For my last twenty years
Where maybe I can
Slowly get it together
To die cleaned up
To die good enough
For the people
Who are always there
To remind me
I am not.
