I can’t remember the last time that
My bathroom mirror wasn’t a funhouse mirror
Distorting my perception and twisting my spine
The distant laughter of children ringing in my ears
I’ve built a tenuous identity on the edge of a cliff
Tiptoeing my way along a crumbling slope and
Plugging my ears to ignore the rocks disintegrating
Beneath my size-14 shoes with no arch support
I have no belief that I have any good left in me
Maybe I had a finite amount of being good at something
A jar full of self-belief that I was given the day I was born
My doctor told me to ration it out, it had to last me my life
I didn’t listen. Gifted kid, huge scoop. Musician, huge scoop.
So now I clutch an empty jar like a life preserver
Floating along in a blue-black ocean
Hoping that someone will pick me up or
Hoping that the jar will drag me down with it
Poetry Overdose 