Endless End

Now I’m at the beginning;
again, I am beginning.
I always start to say—
but I can’t say it right away,
and I’m beginning to fear
an endless end.

I try to rest when I sleep
and survive when I’m awake;
I don’t know what else to do:
this is an endless end.

My heart is empty
no matter what I do;
this day will end,
and tomorrow will just be another
to get through.

I don’t know but to fear;
this is an endless end.

I’ve dug myself into myself for years;
I know what is wrong,
what is right,
and why,
except I don’t trust myself.

Here is the end of another day.

17 April 1990
Age 20

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• All these fears to my demise
• Perfectionism=Procrastination=Feeling Blah!
• some versions of “goodbye”