the me

I get lost in the me. 

Inside my head. Stuck in this room with nothing in the future.

Nothing…in the future. 

So all I do is think, think, think. 

Thinking of all of the things I have lost. All of the moments that have gone away. Things I could have, should have done differently.

No hope for a future.

My head spins on what is now. But mostly on what is not now.

Is all I have left the could of, should of, would of, if I had only known what tomorrow would be?

Mostly, my thoughts are a blurry, bumpy ride, wallowing in regret. And fear.

And panic.

So much panic.

I am suffocating under the weight of it so that I can’t hardly breathe. 

                          This is me. 

And I have nothing left.

Yet, looking back, I see a past of empty dreams and failed potential.

Nothing but a wasted life.

I will die on the street having done nothing worth remembering.

And no one will notice.