Confusion, Life and Mine

The evening began
The heater turned, confused
Too many feet, too many cold hands
A boring serial struggling to stay alive
A cousin that can talk faster than Eddie Murphy
Two knitting needles racing to create whatever was being created
A bath that ended in curses and frowns
The evening began.

And I
What can I say
Jealousy in my head
Whiskey in my blood
Hope in my heart
Tears in my eyes
And love, ah, love
Confused, as always.

But seriously, what are my expectations?
What do I want?
What do I seek?
Am I deprived?
Or am I just lonely?
What are my dreams?
Am I happy?
Or is the correct question, what is happiness for me?

I am what I am
But then, who am i?

Shit, what was this poem about?
A confused poem from a confused poet.
I seriously got to stop writing, at least for now.
Good night.