I am here for a high five, and a goodbye

I never end a poem correctly.

Nonsensical nonsense.


I need to breathe.
I need to live.
I need to be.
I need to create.
I need to not say no to me.

I need to say yes-
to love,
to health
to happiness.

Yet,
I cannot.

I am on a role.
like a mole,
driving myself down
down down
into the plush ground.

I am home.
I am comfortable.
I am happy for a moment.

And then it all ends
when soberness begins.