Lost

Once upon a moon, or maybe just once upon a dream
I once had a vision of everything I once wanted 
Surrounded by kindness and love, my life was a blessing
Resolute in my beliefs, secure in the person I was
Prepared for the challenges, ready, willing, and able
I recall those days fondly but, oh, how so much has changed    

When one is not enough, but two are far too many
On my way down…
On my way down…
On my way down…
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days
What I don’t have is constantly on my mind
When all of my worries float away within the hour
I’ll soon enter a place that allows me to be anyone other than the person that I must be
To be left with a sense of peace that otherwise eludes me
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days

This insecurity treated, at first, as a minor setback, mocked, it was, more than anything
The full brunt of it all not to be felt until years later
Only then did I start to doubt every single word from both those in my past and in my present
Unable to differentiate between which words to accept and which ones to reject
Disillusioned by those deceivers to my left, these liars to my right
And I’ve been left with nothing but wasted memories ever since

Sitting idle, unwilling to stop myself from the places I was drifting towards
Curbing myself silently, my life speeding past me by in far too many ways
Wondering how this was all so easily forgiven and so quickly forgotten
Seeing and hearing, my suspicious mind burning with unanswered questions 
Slowly building up anger, a distrust of everything and everyone 
Quietly allowing hatred to erase all of me that I once held so dear   

When two are not enough, but three are far too many
On my way down…
On my way down…
On my way down…
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days
What I don’t have fails to leave my hungry mind
Consuming my every thought, filling me with a passion I’ve never known
I’ll soon enter a place that allows me to be anyone other than the person that I must be
With anticipation, with readiness, it’s time to escape
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days

In a free fall of sorts since with thoughts and intentions that I know are not healthy
Purposeless and lonely, I wander to a seedy tavern where no one knows me by name
Drowning myself in endless amounts of liquor I’m open for wherever the night takes me
In a place full of others with similar intentions, it takes little effort to find a cute, little woman  
With the goal of getting into her bed, I speak, not the truth, but only the words she wants to hear 
These lenses that do little more than shade my copper colored eyes

Guided into situations I once never deemed possible, I pause just for a minute and take notice
Waking up, unprotected, in situations unknown have become all too familiar 
Wondering where I am and who I am with and what sort of shame I brought upon myself 
Deprived of the ability to remember any of the actions of the previous night
Unable to truthfully answer whether any of it was worth it or not
It is times like these when my self-loathing is at its highest

When three are not enough, but four are far too many
On my way down…
On my way down…
On my way down…
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days
What I don’t have is constantly on my mind
When all of my worries float away within the hour
I’ll soon enter a place that allows me to be anyone other than the person that I must be
To be left with a sense of peace that otherwise eludes me
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days

Each morning I return to a daily routine that I continue to loathe 
Attempting unsuccessfully to cope as a man that I cannot stand
Irritable, argumentative, and bothered by every little annoyance
Having long ago lost what it was like to find any good in someone else
Fighting my way through the light hours as best I know how
Anticipating the evening when I can once again disappear from this life

My heaven, my hell, this anger and humiliation I’ve brought on myself
Knowing quite well what it was that I allowed myself to get into
Just not understanding how quickly it would turn me inside out
I take the entire fault, but now it’s time to blame myself some more
Grasping a fistful of pills, failing to find a desire to combat this life I lead
With nothing to look forward to, the reasons to not guzzle these down are limited at best

When four are not enough, but five are far too many
On my way down…
On my way down…
On my way down…
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days
What I don’t have fails to leave my hungry mind
Consuming my every thought, filling me with a passion I’ve never known
I’ll soon enter a place that allows me to be anyone other than the person that I must be
With anticipation, with readiness, it’s time to escape
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days

Of all of the fears that rush through my drugged head
It’s the idea of fifty more years of the same that chills me the most
Aware that I cannot fix this, cognizant that I am beyond repair
Before the intake, a request, a prayer, a plea, an appeal
Take me away
Take me away

When five are not enough, but six are far too many
On my way down…
On my way down…
On my way down…
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days
What I don’t have is constantly on my mind
When all of my worries float away within the hour
I’ll soon enter a place that allows me to be anyone other than the person that I must be
To be left with a sense of peace that otherwise eludes me
Now I’m a junkie; I can’t go two days

Opioid addiction with no reason to stop in a purposeless-driven life.

Written in 2008

Copyright, The Poetry of Bryan Buser