Time to Kill

I had some time to kill
before it would kill me.
Being depressed is a bitch,
and I’m out of money.

I could have been rich—filthy rich—
but I made the wrong decisions.
And now the money train has left
without me.

It’s a beautiful day.
Even more beautiful than other beautiful days.
So beautiful, it hurts.
The sun doesn’t warm me—it stings.
The rays pierce straight through
and burn my empty soul.

And the girls—God—
the girls in summer dresses,
they don’t just walk by.
They tear holes in me
with every step, every laugh.
Each smile a reminder
of a life I no longer believe in.

Of everything I’m not.
Everything I’ve lost.
Everything I might never be.

Will this ever stop?
Will I ever get better?

I want to hide in eternity.
Leave all of it behind—
The fake smiles,
The impossible dreams,

The apologetic nonsense creativity has become.

The art trapped inside me
scratching to get out
but never making it to the surface.

Decades of trying.
Of failing.
Of almost.
Of not enough.

I had some time to kill
before it would kill me.

Amsterdam 10-05-2025