Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Help…

It doesn't help me feel better,
Driving too fast on slow roads,
Careless as I swerve around
Other cars driving toward a destination.

I have no destination.

I drive for miles and miles,
Hours and hours,
Convinced that I'll remember where
I'm going or what I'm doing,
Or who I am.

I never remember.
I continue to drive in circles,
Almost certain that
A destiny will fall into my lap
(or on the hood of the car).

As if destiny just falls from the sky.
I may have believed that
When I was younger and stupid,
But I know now that the
Only thing that falls from the sky is rain.

Ask me what falls from the sky
A year or two earlier,
My answer would have been some stupid
Bit of idiotic poetic intelligence like,
“Depression, oppression, grief.”

I may even have answered by saying
“Whatever curveballs God feels like throwing,”
Or
“Angels, but they glide down gently,
They never fall.”

My god, how I've changed.
Am I ruined or have I always
Been this way.

Perhaps I've had to adjust to
The darkness around me.

Perhaps it's all my fault,
Or not my fault at all.

Perhaps I'm flawed;
Perhaps it's time to admit that I need help.

June 16, 2006
Suge


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