Weakness/Strength

This is not poetry, this is a diary
this is not spoken, or dictated
or edited. this is the worst of me.

This is what happens when you write down your intentions
you are satisfied with reading them and act instead on impulse
you feel safe knowing that yet another facade is erected
between you and the populous
I have never felt so weak
never felt so spent
and I'm just about done with having false revelations
about my path and goals and morality
I chase people and things that I think will make me happy
ghosts of past glories, shadows of former moments
they don't make them like they used to
back when I was young, which always seems like yesterday
when I know that it never happened.
the past is always easier after the fact
and the present is always harder than anything you can see in your future
my words don't reflect my feelings
Feelings that are harsh and heavy
that hold me down beneath the surface
of this muddy reflecting pool
that sits beneath a monument to the very thing I've always hoped to become
the red sun fills the sky and as i peer up through the thick water I can just barely see an outline
but that outline is hollow and dark
and pitiful
a shadow of its former self.
I chase it.
This feeling cannot be bottled up by these word vessels
pretty words can hide wounds but never stitch or dress them
I am the same man, yet again, constructing facades.
Is there anything beneath?
I must dig deeper, find the root and remove it
this weed has grown much larger than the forest it once sat in
and that forest feels itself slipping
fear not!
I am not one to inflict upon myself
that greatest of evils
but where else can I go?
I cannot hide in my self gratification
I cannot hope to follow my lusts forever
Jesus!
I am becoming a man, I am heading for adulthood!
Jesus!
I have asked for help so many times, but I am too weak to take advice.
I am the politician who lies to everyone and still has lies left over to use on himself
I am the well-off hooker who sells herself to be loved
I cannot be these things any longer
I must change!
but I sit. I sit and wait for change to come.
I chase my daydreams and pretend that things fall into place
my tetrisesque expectations of this reality
are simply two dimensional.

There are breaks in the line
there are holes in the wall
that separates me from freedom.
I catch glimpses of what it is to be whole
I feel the joy I used to when I was innocent
(when it was oh so easy, oh so hard)
I feel sometimes as if I am chasing things for the right reasons.
I genuinely want to know you
I genuinely want to do this
I Love you.
I Love you and I mean it.
I used to be a romantic, really.
Now I just play one on TV.
But my time is coming, and I know I can do it.

This is what happens when you write down your reflections
on misdirected intentions
satisfied, knowing that you can change because you can see the problem
My self help program used to have 12 steps for 'denial'
but I have graduated today.

I feel things coming back
I see clearly
I hear things above the droning white noise
The red sun is setting on the monument
and I am beginning to see who it depicts
I feel buoyant
I feel like perhaps I can swim
breathe.

I'm not a good person
(Don't argue with my in your head)
But I'm trying.

I'm trying very fucking hard.