Mister Masochist Poem by Jeremy Willson

A ramen cup half spilled, noodles splattered on my art
Tears dried up half emptied, scattered from the heart
Drowning in actionless notions of self improvement
No matter how perssistent I am in my intent
Blank sounds, expression through bitter platitudes
I can't take it anymore endearing it's worse than solitude
I see it in their eyes as I stare through to their soul
Pride consumes me but self absorption corrupts their role
They're not meant to play the world, just me
And they have done a fine job of that admittedly
As each time I blink I sink into the abyss much deeper
I'm up to my neck in doubt, it weights me down like an amateur
I truly can't swim so there's no point fighting the depth
The only serenity I'll find is in my final breath.