the battle

--- it never ends

i can't win 

two opposing forces 

battling within --- 

i bet they talk about you with malicious hate
you're already lost inside, all by yourself
why would they give a fuck about you
you and your worthless pride, pride in something where nothing's left

none of that's true
none of that can be thought through
without the help of a self hate 
built up over years, but somehow you call it fate

what is this? a moment of clarity
a moment of epiphany 
are you magically balanced and feel good inside?
you aren't even looking at your self with any scrutiny
fat, lazy, slobbish, with wistful moments of sobriety 
it's a wonder why you don't realize how much you lie

it's not a lie and maybe i did let go a little
but i want to become the best of me and abandon this self hate riddle
you always speak with pessimism and negativity 
but hope in myself is lit, you're left with my insecurity 

let yourself go a little? 
you're forty pounds over weight, and fat, out-of-breath after a single stair
there is nothing left of you to help, and your hope is a fleeting care
all these feelings are just awash 
you'll be back inside a bottle, a complete and utter loss
look at all the things you've wasted and ignored
hope isn't something you know how to explore
love from romances? 
you went after lust and wasted it
family ties and relationships? 
you wall them off and never let in enough to have wasted it
friends and experiences? 
you hypercritical dickhead, you can't simply be there to experience it
you're always in your head
living in comfort with your mental safety blanket of dread
you're living the life you know you want 
empty, alone, drunk, with nothing left of yourself but a smoking, tarry cigarette butt 

you think you're a mammoth of truth, speaking from reality

but your foundation is built on a sandy streambed, filled in after a storm

you call things the way you see them, but you're lost in an asylum of self-pity insanity

call yourself whomever you want, but all you are, is a hateful little worm

i can build myself up 

i can become the man i should have been

i can create a life where i'm not ashamed

you glean off my guilt and glutton off my misery 

but you won't need to trip on yourself, your sandy foundation will turn your mammoth negativity

to stone

you're such a naïve fool
you hate yourself, your life and no longer care how far you've come unspooled
you wish you were dead and abandoned 
fuck that, you'll abandon yourself and blame others as a stand-in
you're weak backed, with no real strength
you couldn't even let yourself to win an easy game of roulette
you're not strong enough to give up
you're so damn small, you parasitize off others who want to help
giving them barely enough so they feel obliged to tell you everything will all be ok
but secretly, you don't care, you'll use them up and then run away
but i cant really blame you
the only thing you're really good at is drinking
and face it, that's what your doing now, right? is drinking...

but i want to change

but i want to live

but i want to have this life, even with all the battles, i still lived

you may be right 

i think of killing myself nearly every damn night

but that's a battle i'm winning

proof is there, i'm still here right?

you always force things into black and white

its all-and-everything, or nothing-at-all

you can't even accept failing is just another opportunity to stand up after a fall

you're weightless and pointless, with every ounce of you

because every ounce of you is a weight i keep dragging behind me

you're a false reality with self hatred as its muse

only left with insults of extravagant and exaggerated wasted time in the mental sea

when really you haven't left the dock of internalized, imagined self pity

you're so fucking dumb, you don't even know you've done this before, and you're nearly done
you get all hyped about a new thing
hyper focus and go all in
only to burn out, fizzle over and end up one step closer to who you've always been
a drunk burn out, who deserves nothing but the clothes on your back 
it's questionable if you deserve that
i wont tell you to kill yourself cause we both know you're too weak for that
but let's be honest, you self-sabotage just enough 
just enough to get comfortably situated back in your self-made misery
then complain, bitch and moan; and guess what?
the time is coming when no one will want to help you
you will be so far lost in delirium that you will think i'm a real person talking to you
yelling at me while piss drunk, leaning on a tree, at six in the morning
let's be honest, you have done it before 
you unstable
worthless peice of shit
self enigmatic 
narcissistic parasite 
call yourself of man
call your self anything you can
but its inevitable
you're wasted and not enough of you is left for use at a junkyard
and be honest, you're so cynical you laugh 
at this corny, expansive, excusive display of chaff
a false cry for help
you just want to someone to care until you don't care anymore
fill that gasbag head of yours, float so high 
only to let go, hoping you die
cause you cant do it yourself
just call the cops
make a fake bomb threat 
rush them 
and die

you're a broken jumble of reactionary, emotional outrage

you want things easy

misery is always made out to be difficult and miserable

but it's your easy choice because you wallow inside its protective finery

protected from your lack of control

protected from every required action to becoming something more

protected from letting go of each-and-every single ounce of hurt held so dear

you describe everything as though its mapped and explored

yet you're the one who quilled the lines of made up boundaries 

boundaries of self made statehood

statehood from which every territory you incorporate is made up of more 

more and more resplendent ideas of grandiose, romanticized self hate

hate is all you are and all you have

have that hate and give to me all of it you can

can self hate thrive in a stoic man

if i have white skin covering my knuckles

if i smell like a distillery, in delirium, at the break of dawn

if i unspool into a knotted mess strewn along the ground

at least i spoke to your true reality

you are self hatred 

me be done with thee, without being done with me

fuck you, you'll be back
let me count the seconds
oh wait, what was that?

--- crack, hiss, fizzle, the gas escapes from the seams of a beer can. start the cycle again. ---