The ways of love are tricky to ascertain
and I’ve wasted too many years trying to wrap my head around things I can never understand.
I keep chasing happiness but find myself stumbling,
hanging over the edge, trying to cling to those fleeting moments that bubble up as laughter,
ascend and float away.
My new found hope melts as cotton candy on tongue
and once again death is so close I can feel it’s breath on the back of my neck.
Words have a way of burrowing under my skin and I descend again into despair
as I am reminded of all that I am not…
all that I should have been.
The pain is to just too real to pack away with past grievances.
Too real to disregard.
I’m a loser,
but not in the way that you think.
I’m a loser insomuch as I cannot win.