Bleedinginvisiblenumb Poem by Thom Isaacson

i get it
i get it

it really doesn’t matter how hard you try
“Such a sad disposition you hold”

what else can i hold?

i hold nothing
but I leave everything
[ how unfortunate ]

these guilty thoughts of abandonment are all i have left
[ that the things we learn ]
mockeries of running

[ aren’t ever actually learned ]
unwanted escapes
[ unless we do it the hard way ]

how can i get out if i don’t want to?
i don’t want to give up

quitting's for quitters
quitters are losers
losers don't win

winners get the prize
that's what i want