I drown my sorrows
with feather-light sleep
in the upright seat of my truck,
Overdose on peanuts, almonds, and green tea
while blasting through the speakers the
latest John Green novel, read by some
professional-but-not-famous actor.
Serious about rebellion, I remain
in the truck until 7:10, rather than 6:59,
cutting into my full-hour-early-for-work habit,
stealing that time to engage
In the behaviors of self-destruction
even if the ingredients are gentle by comparison
to the angst, substance, and heavy-metal
of my lost-and-searching youth.
I contemplate my struggles
through chronic fatigue
in the upright state of my life.
