mutineer in poetry

all the times that I survived
but lost my place a friend
my face a dream or the rent
maybe it was not a doom averted
maybe it was just doom deferred
maybe I should have cut to the chase
maybe I should have let myself break
instead of bent

maybe it was all inevitable
just a choice of when to fail
how long to pretend
that I could plug the leaks
how long I could float
in a perpetual bail
patching two leaks in the hull
while patching three leaks in the pail

still looking for the third opinion
amongst the bungled and the strange
instead of buying time or dying
trying to instead find
a way to change