A Shovel and a Bottle of Scotch

I bought a shovel
the other day.
But I think
I’m gonna return it.

“Bury anything you want,”
the guy told me.

But no matter how much
I pat that dirt down,
all my depression
and insecurities
leak back
to the surface.

I need a more
permanent
solution,
but loneliness falls
like a boulder
and broke the blades
of every shredder
I’ve ever owned.
And apathy
always seems to
grow right back
after you cut it.

I suppose
I could leave it
on the surface.
Walk around
with every last
blemish in my hands.

Exposed.

But, no,
nobody wants
to see that.

I’ll just find
a better shovel.
One laced with
processed self-confidence
and a thick coating
of humor.

And I’ll buy a nice bottle
of scotch, too.

That’s it.
That’s what I need—

a new shovel
and a bottle of scotch.

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2 thoughts on “A Shovel and a Bottle of Scotch

  1. "And apathyalways seems to grow right backafter you cut it."Hot Damn! Seriously. I love this. I was reading it without knowing who it was intentionally (because Dani Blue gave me the idea!)And I totally knew it was you from the first line. It's very you and it's very amazing.(YES, That means I think you're amazing!)

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