just give in, dystopian

waking up drunk is a whole new world.

(not really, because it's nothing too new.)

face all weird, texture's off,

fingers tingling and feet are numb

from curling up all night in one unmoving position.

what an odd thing, wishing to numb the pain with yet another drink and knowing if you do it won't fix nothin' in your brain.

but at least you might forget all the things inside your head.

Dante's smile, year from hell, spent too deep and trying not to yell out from the depth

because the sea of trials never could end well,

so why persist, why fight the swell?

it pushes deeper your denial.

waking up drunk with chores to do? what else is new?

this whole new world is odd because

the the world that lives inside my head and

in my dreams when I'm in bed

is different altogether, I am better,

with a job that doesn't suck the life out of my soul

and the energy to pull myself together

to work towards something better

without the constant heartbreak and the

stress of wond'ring

just how many desks

I would have to push against my classroom door to

keep a gunman coming through,

when rounds sound not far off

and my kids tell me they heard shots

and saw the lights and passing cops

that cut right through the dead of night,

hurting sleep and hurting life.

once again, their words will shake me

try to hide the way they break me

from their eyes, I say my line,

"That's so scary, are you okay?

Do you want to talk about it?"

They shake their heads and run away,

back to play and talk and chat

with classmates never knowing that

this world we're in is so beyond

what life should be; dystopian.

i can't imagine living a life where that won't weigh upon my mind.

but in my dream i saw it, and you,

pushing me to get out now,

this brand new world i wake up to is nothing new, it just feels too crazy

to be real.

so i will wake up drunk again for weekends to come

until I'm done and the kids i love are

safely in the hands of another.

waking up drunk is the only way that i can stand

to go into my work again,

"do it all for the kids,

remember why you started"

but my love for them keeping me

cannot be

the cause of my self-harming by remaining in this system that is killing me,

not slowly but with rapid and increasing speed.

waking up drunk on a Saturday, Sunday,

means I got a glimpse of what it's like to forget.

and I will go to work on Monday.