Seated Before The Mess

After all these years
thrashing my way through
every possible situation
and screaming at the floors, walls,
doors, and windows
when I couldn’t do
what was needed,

you’d think I would
understand how little 
I’ve done that worked
when done at top volume 
and frantic action, yet when given
one more chance to be still and
possibly effective for once in my
increasingly mockable life

I fucked up and broke 
more than silence with clumsy
blows and motions.

Now, I could sit back
from the wreckage and 
excuse and stammer and 
point at how I got here and 
what I was trying to do,
what I intended to do, but

to be honest, 
it doesn’t matter
and never did.

So what now?