Dope

They all clawed back in because I’m tired of a discipline that feels like loneliness.

They told me they’d leave me alone once I got to the top of the mountain,

but here I am,

huddled away hiding and fascinated
as I lose consciousness.

No, not lose, loss suggests inadvertent, the empty ache of sacrifice.

No

I’m giving away.

This is the yard sale of my aspirations,

the final shredding of my promises,

mulch for growing my next life behind my back,

lest I break my own heart.

I’m collecting dependency like congestion.

Could I have done it without them?

I don’t remember an experience of myself when I was free.