There was a pond I’d visit,

After work.

After my days end.

I would drop stones,

And sometimes coins, down from the dock.

 I liked watching them splash against the water.

And I loved watching the water ripple.

Little wavelets spreading until they hit the edges of the lake.

Change.

Change had always stumped me.

Change.

Everyday to work, I would wear the same-colored blazer and tie,

Khaki slacks, white shirt.

In my office, I am highly esteemed.

I got a 5% bonus in my last check.

Is this what appreciation, success, felt like?

Did it feel like 100 sleepless nights?

Did it feel like 1,000 hours in front of my computer?

God, it was cold.

Cold and lonely.

Cold and lonely,

And pathetic.

Numb.

Numb warmth helps.

Numb.

The view from the top of a bottle is always more enjoyable for me.

Its toasty.

And everything is still there as it was.

I can still think clearly.

But from the bottom of a bottle nothing is real,

A jumbled reality that I always confuse for a dream.

And I do sometimes wish it was,

That I could wake up from this.

Tired.

I’m so damned tired.

Tired.

I toss and mumble,

But never drop or tumble.

No sleep for two days,

My mind is in frays.

I duck my head under my pillow,

And pray to be taken,

But I can’t manage it.

I need a break

I need a raise

I need a,

Change

Change will always stump me.

Change,

Cannot be found without sacrifice.

Well, what can I sacrifice if I have nothing but this job?

Sacrifice requires giving up something,

In return for something else,

Something better.

So tell me, what is there to give up,

When I have

Nothing?

Nothing changes,

Nothing,

The pond.

The pond’s reflection does,

Since everyday,

the man I see In that reflection,

He gets weaker,

Uglier,

Older.

With that same,

Hesitant smolder.

-Jaxon Hewitt-Zmich