In My Quiet

Where I am most of the time,

resting warily in a state of disbelief.

I carry around with me all the time

a sense of disowning myself

as if I don’t exist, except a memory.

I have a dog to keep me company.

She’s laying at my feet right now. 

I can count on her like a member 

of my family, one torn to shreds by

the reality of not living the life

people expected me to live.

All that’s left now are the years

ahead that will form their own story.

I like it when my dreams take me

throughout the whole day ahead.

So now tonight it is a matter of hours

and then the dreams will return that

sometimes leave me so envious,

I want to take a bottle of sedatives

and never have to return to a waking

state of mind – you know in that place all

of this bitter contempt, my world resides.

I stare at the familiar markings on my walls,

and imagine only I will see these things.

No one else, no reason beyond me and 

my dog who is the most accepting being

in my life. I suppose I might think

about crying about now, but that takes

energy of its own.

I’m actually too bored I guess.