I guess I really am a hopeless dreamer

I had a dream about you the other night. It was just like it was before, and then you left. I woke up, but fell back asleep in the hopes that you would reenter my dream. I kept dreaming and dreaming, but you never came back.

I feel like such a failure.
School.
Work.
Relationships.
Anything.
Why can't I fucking engage?
Why am I so apathetic?
Why do I do this to myself, and why can't I stop?
How can I fix it?

Is it too much to ask?

Please, I just want a bit of fucking honesty.

Less About Control (inspired by Sherin)

I stumbled upon a firefly
the brightest I have ever seen;
through the barricades of darkness
his shining radiance broke.
For a while
this firefly kept me company
ignited me with his light
and made me see beauty
through his outward glow.
I wish you could count
on a firefly to stay,
but one never can.
If you contain a firefly
in a jar,
the light that once shone so bright
will only diminish.
I won't be responsible
for extinguishing the glimmer,
I'd rather nurture it
into a flame that spreads
until the whole world is lit,
ablaze with mystery
and enraptured by beauty.
My best friend sings,
'What I know is that life
is less about control
than it is
about love',
and the song repeats in my head
and resonates in my heart.
So I will let
the firefly wander his course
and pray that it leads back to me.
In the meantime if he has work to do,
others to set aglow
and bring hope to;
I'm grateful for this gift.
I have a light of my own to work on,
but just in case
I will keep a candle in the window
for him.

you say one thing
you do another
this is not news
to the world
it happens all the time.
just know that
i can deal.
for all your shit,
i can deal.
for all your lies,
i can deal.
for all your shortcomings,
i can deal.
sticks and stones.
not that i don't have my own.
and i'll deal with those too.
i'm the little engine that could
and i can i can i can.
and i will,
and maybe after a while
you won't lie
and you won't leave,
maybe you'll even care.
maybe after a while
it will be two against the world
instead of just one.
maybe i believe that
you're worth the trouble.
i don't know what i see,
but whatever it is, is real,
and that's what i want.
so throw me your best,
take a shot,
i'm already taking on the world,
so how much more difference
could you possibly make?

Dancing at Gunpoint

Running through a minefield
desperately trying to dodge
the glancing blows,
sporadic,
unexpected.
They explode carelessly
as if they were unaware
of an innocent life
trying to escape
unscathed.
Or perhaps more as if
they were making a mockery,
like the man who points a gun
at another's feet
and commands, "dance!"
I'm dancing at gunpoint.
I'm weaving through the explosives.
And I'm dancing at gunpoint.
I tire, I weaken,
but I keep on,
and wait for a second wind,
and hope that there's a third,
and a fourth,
and maybe, if I'm lucky,
a fifth.
I grit my teeth and bear it,
and retaliate with a smile,
because it's all I can do
to keep from exploding
myself.