Tides of the Enigma

I sense an eruption

broiling and brewing inside

I’m roiling and stewing

volcanically volatile I writhe,

like six-sided dice I’m quick 

to roll from vice to vice

will I ever escape this absurd game

we call life?

Competing against none

pitted against one

only losing, to myself

and losing myself in the demise.

It feels like

my demons subside

for the mere pleasure 

of waging a raging ravenous return;

I escaped hell, or so it seemed

perhaps escape is a dream

and hell is where I’m designed to dwell;

for I walk out and close the door

only to find I’m chained to the floor

in the room I stepped out of.

I can’t help but wonder

if the dead aren’t better off

than the living

I’m curious to know,

because

God I just can’t

take it, I’m drowning

in self-hatred;

put me in the grave

under the floor

I’m weak

I’m powerless

I’m reckless,

out of control

and I can’t take it

anymore.