And, somehow,
it’s obvious,
raw right now,
I’m dubious,
raised eyebrow,
how scandalous,
I’m over-thinking:
staunch and unblinking,
ever force-feeding,
til this nauseasness,
gets swallowed back down,
And, it repeats again,
its strenuous,
this routine I live within,
life’s tedious,
I ooze falsification,
that’s spontaneous,
I’m unbending:
by extending,
what’s pretend,
every inhalation,
a breathing fabrication,
I know how,
this saga ends,
And, someday,
the stain fades,
from visibility,
words said,
in stones marking graves,
these pathways,
to eternity,
paved by anxiety,
are, potentially,
the way out,
of the self-doubt,
raging throughout,
every last artery.