The Cost of Living

I awake as from a dream,

sweating, shaking, voiceless scream,

into a life that can’t relent.

Consciousness gifted without consent,

with debt to pay, every day.

Walking on the path of life

every step is full of strife.

Within, without, it matters not.

The debt I pay turns mind to rot

so the love I feel hardly seems real.

As sensation floods my being

tears try to obscure my seeing

of things out there that cause me pain.

Yet I cannot avoid the rain

by adding to it, bit by bit.

I run away into myself,

hoarding emotional wealth

to pay collectors when they come.

They take it all, to the last crumb

of self-respect, and leave neglect.

The work to do, to earn it back,

is hindered by the total lack

of rest from my own daily toil.

Nothing grows from blasted soil,

and so I yearn, but do not earn.

Perhaps there will soon come a time

where what I do will be just fine

but today is not that day.

Today, to stay, I have to pay.

To pay it all to prevent the fall

away from bliss, into the abyss.