Wear and Tear

"Hey kid, the key to happiness is simplicity."  The tread is so worn on his tires, and he tells me I should get a bike. 

Wear and tear
my fingertips are bare.
No more identity.

You divulge a karma.
It wears me down.
The hideous sound
of the exhausted
lingers in condolence.

She said, "You are so damn strong."
I can't fathom letting any more grueling sacrifices in.
Don't beat a dead horse.
I have traveled
too far
and yet are in the same insipid place.
Let me dream.
All of this work
ages and corrodes.
I shed my skin.
Look for it in old photography.
It appears I've had some deprieciation
although we can agree
I was not of ordinary use.
The grinding stone
came to a halt.
When I crawled away
the wear and tear
removed my frame.
I am left in such a way
that I had hoped
for some words to lift my structure up.
You are tiresome too.

That day nagged in fog.
Fade into the background.
No one will know you.
It will be a bright new atmosphere.
I begin again.
Who you are
and what you want to be
asphyxiates that cause....
or does it bring it forward?
I want to leave now,
but all of this wear and tear
broke me down.
There has to be something
that finally drags
all of this despondency away.
If you ever find
you've had enough rest
and I glowed in serenity
fresh and new
let's get the hell out of here...
take me with you.