Some people go to the gym, some take to their knees to pray, others wait for the game on the weekend or the movie on the television. There are millions of ways in which we make it through each day. The smile on your child’s face or the vacation once a year to the lake. Maybe it’s enjoying the bottle of wine you aged or that grilled cheese cheat day. Perhaps you throw yourself into your work till you forget anything else on your mind, maybe you volunteer and serve in your community, I don’t know, what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice-versa but I do know we’re all just trying different ways to make everything feel okay. The following is a typically cheery poem I wrote about doing just that — making everything feel okay.

FUCKED UP

The clock on the wall

Is losing time

It’s melting

Its hands mixed up

I’m fucked up

Sick of it all

Behind a haze of Tramadol

My dreams are vivid

But I forget them all

Behind the wall of Co-Codamol

It’s the afternoon

No sunlight in the room

Losing more than I win

On a high stakes table

Betting it all

But the games fixed up

I’m fucked up

Reliving all my sin

Behind a daze of Vicodin

Trying to escape my skin

Chewing on some Klonopin

It’s the middle of the night

It’s a flickering streetlight