Broken
and yet only broken down,
as a sense of self carries on.
There is evidence of this
as a dull ineffectual pledge
towards tasks,
a continuance of movement
though it wears a numbness
and a flawed attention
to the simplest of motor skills.
No, it’s not at all like a hangover.
It is not a drug rehab experience
nor is there a straight jacket
of chemicals involved.
It is more like breathing
stale emotional air.
It's re-breaths from days ago,
recycled emotional air
as the rewards and upkeep fester.
Oh this could all be changed
in an instant
but that knowing
of one’s circumstance
does not leave one
with many options to respond.
Surely it does
and we both know it does.
But why?
Even if any of us
traded for enthusiasm,
when does that frame become
just another hoop?
Until we trip over it
and excuse ourselves
in a kind of false humor.
Yet I personally,
fully and thoroughly enjoy
this perversity.
It provides a contradicted levity
from deep within,
a meltdown of the dimness
though tasteless but palatable within.
That is why, any one of us
is only broken down.
This is a self-conscious state
of admittance
and yet, a certainty
of a deeper resolve.
And on any give day,
we all can relate to that feeling.
Yes?
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