let the mud flow

I've got five minutes to 7 AM, yet it's 10:55 PM local time. I've got thoughts whirling through the head, is hard to rest my mind. I'm calling out into the night skies - awake and rise? Smile just one more time? I know there are likelier situations, but I am bullheaded, stubborn; headstrong. I'm not about ready to let this slip through my fingers. Regrets? I've had them. Hurts? I carry them. Wounds? I bear them. But all of this is done in hope - don't let me down. Though I know, if truth be told, that I'm the one who always lets you down. I ain't close to perfect; I ain't close to anything good. I'm a dark broken cistern - dog-paddling through the very mud I hold.