Chapter III
The street is familiar
The lanes are not.
I’ve fallen in again
And am now distraught.
I couldn’t see what needed to be seen
As the paranoia drove me to the unclean
And unforeseen consequence
Leading to darkened fences
Boundaries behind boundaries
Masturbating my intellect
While my body escaped the sun’s embrace.
I am floating in darkness
Profoundly disappointed
Vision’s blacked out
As the invisible enemy stares me down.
I knew this place once
Dancing throughout life
Creating strife and tears and lies
Despising any reflection I would catch.
Nobody sent me, nobody begged as
My despair pegged beyond limits.
Sirens blare
I am aware
Ensnared in the deep of my mind
How I got here.
Clothes can dry,
Showers can cleanse
The shock of stupidity can lend
To the belief of self.
I found my way here
I can find my way out.
I shout and no one comes,
I pout and no one loves.
Yet the ladder to the light
Frighteningly appears to me.
I need only grasp the rung
To escape the dung
And dank darkness.
Do I really need to swim here?
Do I really need to sink?
Drown myself in misery
Or refuse to ever blink?
Taking hold of my future
I lift my Self out of despair
And climb into a different day
In which I am painfully aware
That when the street becomes familiar
And if I distract myself long enough
I’ll find myself drowning again
Surrounded by all of the stuff
That enabled me to miss the most obvious of all:
Streets are ever winding
Ever curving, everpresent.
And if I want the life I need
I must take an honest heed
To all the warning signs that state
I am about to detonate.
I am ready to listen.
I am willing to accept
That I cannot half-ass surrender
Nor can I pretend to be inept.
This chapter closes with a warning
This chapter closes with a curse.
Just fucking stop it, man
Or it will always end up worse.
Christopher Loflin
25 July 2020
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson. This was a response to Chapter III.
