Waiting

I am feeling nauseous,
Drinking alone, late night,
He told me they were going to be here,
I chose to take the night,

All around me are sad stories swirling,
Not uttered for my ears,
But for those attached to the ones speaking,
No one even noticing I am here,

My mind is game but my body's fading,
I'm old but still living,
The music's from when I was in hogh school,
Too shit for listening-

Wait, is that them?!
No, I guess they will text,
Maybe I will be here when they get here,
I just want to be wondering what's next.

Gotta Go

I just feel like writing,
I have nothing to say,
Sometimes I have a burning in my hear,
Of self-loathing and shame,

For, of all things, not being productive,
As if what is outside,
Doesn't mean something different to you,
Than that which you cannot see with your eyes,

Even now I feel like I'm wasting time,
Procrastinator's curse?
Is it for that, that I've not anything,
But the moths in my purse?

I'm better now,
I needed distraction,
Action to convince myself I work hard,
Something real to upchuck my inside in.

Another Loss

You have the right to cry,
For friendships you have lost,
What do we have to tell us we're human,
Than other people's thoughts,

Coupled with those that come out of our mouths,
Forging real'ty new,
Proving that despite all that we might face,
Together there's nothing we can't get through,

That there's no counter ideology,
That you can't justify?
No, with friends anything is possible,
Until they leave or die,

So, cry away,
'Til someone new appears,
Don't begrudge time spent with those who are gone,
May you live so long they're measured in years.

Troubador

Can bad luck portend good?
I've only that hope left,
Positivity comes in many forms,
But that's not true for debt,

You can do all the right thing for yourself,
At least, what you think's right,
Then measure success by a different guage,
Because value is determined by might,

You have no control over what you do,
Sorry, you disagree?
I wish I could live your reality,
Despite what I can see,

Then die happy,
Oh boy, that's depressing!
Yet somehow I'm comforted by these thoughts,
I want to pick up my guitar and sing.