BUMMERsummer.

Garbage.

Lower than the worms that fidget, in the earths soggy, soil below.

My scaly, pale, skin crawling from the depth of despair.

There may as well be monster(s) in my head.

MOnstErS. As in multiple.

Feeding them by mistake- they now refuse to leave.

I allow them to punish me with thoughts of anxiety.

Stresses that will never cease.

But rather ceasing they drag on with mere reflections of my acts.

Presenting a picture-musing frames of wrongs and rights.

I see, I'm not so bad.

:

Like a row boat pivoting through the clouds.

I inhale the warmth of greatness rising above me.

Glasses on my circle face are labeled: negative persona.

Tossing them I ascend aerial positions.

It WILL last- it has to. Falso.

Like a status no one "likes" it will be deleted.

Erased from the memory box titled: ONCE PLEASANT.

Thoughts dart in and out of my mind.

I think. I Ponder. I do all I can do.

Greedy. Grab every expression of happiness.

Hoard it in a wooden box. Wrap it with Duct Tape. you'll want it.