good man's tale (a rare account)

so bad and so sorry. i can't fill this silence and i cant budge the edges of my mind. texts and manuscripts. taken away for a bit. the world is heavy on my aching back. a line i relate to. i've lost it. nothing's been, or come, or even gone easy. cursed. sins of my father? mother? myself? an endless tall tale of unfulfilled potential. critical echos of a failed hero or hopeful. good lord how did this happen? how'd i unravel and get tangled in my own tattered wrapping? how do i know what's next? what's best? there is no justice and i promised myself there would be. now i bury myself in every concept attempting to find it or vanish its importance. i guess i'm coping. but it's the epitome of bitter sweet. i could just drop dead. like every breath i take is drown out by a thrust of cedar scent. exhilarating and toxic. the epitome of a double-edged sword. no balance. no justice. every step forward is a step back. every wound heeled is salt in another. but i'm coping...god i hope i'm coping. i hope i understand. i hope i transcend it. it's just that...doing what was right...has never done right by me.