Weltschmerz

I have fought the devil from sun up

to sun down

and the battle’s still raging,

angry at my desk

my cookbooks

my clothes, for never changing

and the trash bag grows

the weight of what doesn’t resonate,

so heavy.

I told myself I was stronger

than this world,

as I spiraled downward.

I told myself I was a descended master,

as I tried to climb back up

to peace

from a reality

I hate—

falling back instead

to quicksands

of desire.