Ian Copestick

I’m Lucky, I Guess

I sometimes feel like a misanthrope
and the world seems an unbearable horror.
I’m glad I’ve never been able to purchase
a gun, or I doubt I’d still be here now.
At times like this, life seems at best pointless,
at worst it feels like a cruel form of torture.
As soon as I wake, the self loathing
and humiliation come in wave after wave
of sickness. Intoxicants are my only
hope, and oblivion is all that I desire.
I’m lucky, I guess because every time
it’s happened so far, something has
woken me up and dispersed the black clouds.
Shooed away that fucking black dog.
I’m lucky, I guess. What else can I say ?

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