250. Tell The Truth (Myshkin, 2022) · free verse

I’m getting by on small doses of satisfaction Injected into my brain by the small, Mindless, unambitious games I play. I have let myself go. In so many ways! “Found God, lost God, now what?” My current six-word memoir stings… Or would. If only I weren’t so numb. There is a distinct unwillingness to engage, And the passive voice is right, Because I seem to have lost That little man inside of me Who used to boss me around, My inner rowing coach. Good riddance! And I miss you. Nobody at the wheel. Some days my greatest achievement Is taking a shower. Or feeding myself and my dog. For one so ambitious once, and still haunted By the phantom pain of ambition, I suddenly want nothing. But not in a good way. Silence (which I recently loved) terrifies me. That new witness still up there Remembers enough  To know what I no longer have… And the movie theater in my head Is only playing bad depressing movies. I wait around to be saved, Like a damsel in distress, Looking nothing like one. God’s grace found me once, right? Or did I earn that? Disconnected from “I,” I still reach for “Thou,” But feebly. With disembodied hopelessness. With memories of burnt bridges, lost lovers, Frayed friendships, broken business entities. Not enough energy to fight for connection. There’s no redemptive twist, no facile moral, In this obscure world Where things are only getting worse. Here I am, Waiting for death, Hoping for freedom and light, Burying my soul deeper and deeper With each passing day.