i am digging my own grave, one foot at a time
and i'm sinking faster than i crawl
where i sleep is where i lay my head and sink every night
beds made of quicksand
restless sleep that startles me awake and burns my eyes,
blurred with exhaustion and red-rimmed.

"you have it all" is the catchphrase,
chanted somnolently in a haunting resonance.
i open my mouth to shout back, desperately seeking their philosophies,
willing them to become my own.
and would i prefer to stumble in a daze, delightedly obtuse?
could such ignorance leave me crumpled contentedly at my own feet,
muscles softened against bones, powerless and common?

what am i waiting for? a flash of blinding light that makes my head spin, something that awes me? when you denounce god, you have no one to hate but yourself. and i would still rather despise my weaknesses than lose my soul to a god that paints in black and white.