Unfinished: A poem

Dull gold light
From my expensive looking lamp
Looking down at my unshaven face
My bad skin in the mirror
A reality check
Mayer in the background
My calluses have faded
probably with all hopes of playing
Even remotely like him
My picks lying unused

My mind in disuse
My capabilities now in doubt
Self-doubt, the worst kind
Not a minute here, not one there
It flits like a butterfly from flower to flower
This infernal brain of mine
He plays on his golden strings
In an endless loop still
I ache for someone, something
A nameless heartache
One without definition

I know I should sleep
Wait for the day ahead
Weekends in this alien land
Not a friendly soul in sight
I'm reminded again of all who broke me
My fragile self-worth floats to the surface
Shattering again like smooth thin ice
Skated on by many a callous person
'til I found my tribe, I'm afraid to lose.
I numbed myself so much,
That cupboard now refuses to remain shut
Bursting at the seams

It now wishes to let loose
All that it's ever contained
In the manner of hot saline drops
My face uglier still, for it
The melancholy strains echoing each
Sentiment, I try to tear myself away
From this maudlin state of mind
Dreams, desires, wants,
My mask too tired, too devoid
Of the adhesive that glues it on

It falls like flaking paint from the walls
Along with some crumbling paint
From my heart
But what is that person
Who needs to mask themselves
To themselves
Pray, hope that I never
Need to be that, at least.

Thanks for reading my poem. It speaks of unfinished projects and unrealized dreams. Hope you all can relate. Cheers!!!