Same as Always

Sometimes I think

that I might choke

with the notion.

A hole as wide

as the ocean

encompasses the space behind

my ribs.

Every time I think

about it,

the hole grows wider.

 

Only in moments

of solitude do I

let my mind stray

to the accursed subject.

I don’t feel wanted.

The feeling is absent

--always has been�"

from my life.

 

I try, and I

feel like I succeed.

Have I truly won?

I don’t know.

I still feel the

same as always.