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Personal Note:

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Poem

Ah, lovely. Today is another one. 
Where I remember, I’m the most hated son. 
I worked to make people proud, or at least tried, 
So how do I sit here and wish I could’ve died? 
I’m trying to find the sense, trying to see the thread, 
That brings logic back and reminds there must be a reason I’m not dead. 
But still, if I am remembering right, 
I feel as I feel because of last night. 
The grime, the black, this nasty ooze 
Staying coated on me after a night full of booze. 
Seeing clearly with my defenses down, 
I am a most miserable, ridiculous clown. 
I need to not have this experience, this feeling, 
But there is the anxiety that sends me reeling, keeps from healing,
 damage dealing, 
sad fate sealing. 

Just to forget for one moment, for just a beat, 
I send whisky down with all its heat. 
Sober side sees, and doesn’t like the weight, 
Leading to drunk me, who forgets his own hate. 
But I should sober for a minute; 
Because I’ve found myself deep in it. 
My head still hurts from slamming the table, 
But I needed to punish me as I was able. 
Today is a different one, today is new
Don’t worry, we shan’t repeat, since last night, we grew. 
But as I fill the tumbler I grabbed from that dusty shelf, 
I beg to get an answer. When can I stop hating myself?

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