I had to write this down because if I don't, I never will. I regret the simplest things, which then leads to guilt. I've been too busy trying to avoid tumbling downhill. I work to survive, and living that idea killed everything I'm trying to build.

 

Sorry for my absence life has been kicking my ass. I dodged a few of my mistakes, but everything happened so fast. I was stuck chasing the American Dream as if I signed a contract. But doing so, I didn't realize that I was walking into a beartrap.

 

I haven't written in two months and I used to write every night. To give myself room to breathe and possibly share some advice. I sold my time to a relationship and I ended up paying the price. No matter how devoted you are as a partner, you can never be precise.

 

I fell behind in payments, but that's a common human error. Life happens, which makes it impossible to endeavor. Sometimes, I get high just to feel lighter than a feather. Despite numbing responsibilities, it doesn't eliminate the pressure. However I push on by assuming that the choices I make are clever. Yet regardless of my altruism, noone appreciates the gesture. Touching an opportunity as if there's some texture. Failing in the process which doesn't make me feel any better.

 

I had to write this down because it had to be done at some point. To return to a place that can swap pain with rejoice. A poem can be made if it means my demons are destroyed. Sometimes, I write just to filter out the noise.

 

I'm going to be a father, and I can't wrap my head around the truth. I'm not financially capable, but that's not an excuse. My ex imposes an idea that even God would refuse. To leave the country with the child in order to elude. Poverty can't give a child happiness. At least, that's what she assumes. It's about the love and time shared whenever there's wiggle room. Seeing my child is all I think about during my daily commute. Without my child in proximity, how can I live on through?

 

I love her honestly with all of who I am. We parted ways because together, we couldn't stand. If it weren't for our child, the distance would have began. It's gut wrenching that it led to that point, but she would understand. 

 

A bond now held by pity, and it stings in the eyes of loyalty. To destroy a love that could have lasted a century. Sharing the same friends, pain, and, sadly, enemies. Her lifestyle was so lavish that it became a singularity.

 

My parents aren't aware, and I know it's fucked up. She wants to leave me because of the amount on my pay stub. The only upside that I see is that the baby was made with love. I was threatened with child support, which hit me like a truck.

 

I've been in my head lately, but there are too many thoughts to keep track. You can tell by my face, but you might be too concerned to ask—a broken man who lost hope with happiness in a bag. I'm losing myself, and at night It's difficult to relax.

 

I had to write this down because I'm scared I'll lose my touch. Penning reality from the emotions that are gushed. I used to write in moments when I had time to adjust. Now, every single distraction becomes an obstruct.

 

As a writer, it's tough when you see yourself fade. So many unfinished work that has to be put away. I don't know if I'll return, maybe when the sky is gray. Here's my last poem, but hopefully, that's not a cliché.

 

Life goes on, and the toughest moments are remembered. Depression is a prison, but only if you surrender. The psychological desolation is too perilous to be measured. It gets my mind spinning faster than most propellers.

 

I'll step off the page. God knows when I'll return. Maybe this poem will change my life, and respect could be earned. I can't give up because that's not the father my child deserves. My book might sell and fall into the right terms. Success could be handed and I can have my voice heard. Blow up financially with withdrawals on high alert. Save a portion before I'm a few feet in the dirt. Give my family a cushion to be prepared for the worst. Solving each dilemma because we know it wouldn't be the first. Perplexed and stressed while still managing a warehouse at work. If only my intentions were known and time was reversed. All of this agony could be spared, and no one would be hurt.