Malaise

Im hurting myself badly
by not addressing these things inside me
that rot away at a nervous soul
Put on hold until my mind can be clear
Again
Is this death?
The transcendent soul numb,
cynically deprive of value
for these wonderful things
memories
I am tired often
I look for answers in my dreams
what am I neglecting
These flames tearing through the building
opening the sky on a starless night
a light in the dark
The void of preserved night
Pain seems too trite
to appraise this derision
but i aspire, nonetheless, for a brighter dream
For now it is that house on fire
To give my direction a destination
before it pales with time
extinguishing itself, spent of fuel
And i am lost until sunrise
Though it may be far too late
for these things inside
may have already rotted away
leaving a pile of ash
where my home used to be