on knowing what to do, and not doing it (4 june 2010)

this thirst is insatiable
standing in the kitchen
drinking water
waiting for my belly
to burst
oh
but this thirst is insatiable

i've always claimed no regrets
i haven't time for regrets
no time for them
because
i was too stoic for them
regrets
those dirty little bastards
sneaked up upon me
while i was doing the dishes

soapy dishwater
and cold cold ice
cannot cleanse the dirt off me

the tears aren't helping either
they're only an indicator
that something is really wrong here

hear:
presently
in this moment
is my allowance of every regret
to come to full fruition
blossoming in my chest
like the winter's cough
of a homeless child

i feel disease
spiraling through my veins

i don't know what else to say.
i've lost the poetry.
which is imperative to my survival.
and i know what to do.
or at least how to cope.

mistakes. regrets. life. suicide.
ballets. iced tea. chirping birds.
the 23 enigma. postcards. dirt.
sand. dandelions. trees. death.
balance. mistakes. transience.
the north wind. moving water.
books. knowledge. education.
regrets. bikes. sun. poison ivy.
focus. purpose. goals. failure.
fortunes. faith. crows. and the
severe understanding of your
actions and their implications.

let's go down to the river
and not to pray
to cleanse myself
cut my hair
and bathe
listen to the blues
and maybe sing along