Matthew P. Haubert

I want a house with a movie script family,
but I live in a drug filled apartment lost in regrets.

In my lonely chair I dream of starting old dreams,
But time is crushing me, crushing hopes of what once was me.

Dirty Carpet, Moldy sinks,
Family heirlooms dusting and hidden in shame,
Clothes 20 years old, folded like new,
Pictures of years past hanging my neck in noose,
Tears building up on a pile of builds that keep me behind.

Polished instruments, never touched, avoided thoughts they bring,
Organized rooms of objects I think normal people buy to keep up my normalcy.

Light bulbs broken, stolen toilet paper from the market down the street,
Starving from empty cabinets, all my money to drugs instead of food.

The living room is my home gym, pacing neverending back and fourth until my insanity is drained.
My bedroom is my grave, dug deep with a coffin of dirt, where most of my wasted years have been spent, wondering what if, never getting out to do.

So many times of getting ahead and clawing out of deaths box,
getting ahead, before god strikes the ground ahead of me,
Renews me of my pennace for the sins of my past horrible mistakes.

No one visits my home, my cheap tricks only last a few moments,
Farther away from me, the safer people always beceome,
Easy to tell if Im spiraling down, 
Uncut hopes of hair, dirty clothes, stuck inside
Wishing that the door opens and takes me outside to the world.

If I could escape my life, pretending to be satisfied, I would,
If I had the courage to live the normal day to day Id be a better human than what my soul is doom to now.

Stuck on a path to death, the kind of the devils gift.
Giving me a way out to leave my late night saness behind, my sleeping through sun shined days,
for eternal my flesh and soul, I look forward to most days, for my being to be destroyed.

Take away the texts at 2 am of pictures from my past, to people whom I wouldnt recognize anymore and have moved on.
Waiting  for one response that they are happy to hear from me.  
I wish I didnt hold hope in such high esteem, its nothing but unelected feelings never to be sought after again.

Never a surprise no on answers my nostaligic plea for a momemt to feel like I did years ago, before I lost myself to whatever the fuck I am today.

So stuck in this apartment, until the next eviction comes through,
Until im homless again, I keep the lights on, because Im afraid of closing my eyes and dying alone in this bed, never having a family by my side.