in the wind

I don't know if I can handle this right now.
The road that I'm tumbling down left me feeling like
less of a man and more like a clown.
The sound barely resounds in my ear
before I am drowning in your frown.
Not much, to be living in the fear of now
but somewhere encrypted in this vision of me
is a place more dead than a long deceased sea.
I only have so much to give.
Only so much to bleed.
It seemed too deliberate when you adjusted your crown.
All sounds indicate a cacophony of absence
and the lab sent results reminiscent of past unabashedness.
But blasting past this indiscretion at last
I take to the task of carrying the casket
containing what remains of my intentions
rendered lifeless by misuse and laziness.
The hole will never be dug for it to lay rest in
but upon these shoulders it will stay.
The weight of things that never will be
constantly reminding me
until the box is mine and the shoulders beneath it are yours.