Early Morning Stupor

I’m blowing smoke in hopes of
Building clouds to carry me.
They can’t take me home
But they can take me away.

So I don’t fall back into
Old habits, twisting my ankle
In them like an unexpected
Hole in the ground.

I never have decided
If reaching for pleasure
Was good or bad, I can’t
Stop myself from looking.

Everything is unstructured.
I’ve been trying to slot all
My thoughts all for not.
Motivation isn’t really here.

I’ll gladly do nothing, then
Hate myself for it later.
I’m not prepared for
Any outcomes of anything.

I’m just existing. Writing
Pointless things down and
Hoping I can make something
Really change in life.

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