Some fleeting bits of poetry are gnawing at the edge of me
As once again the crumbs of consciousness run up ahead of me
My hand is shaking in the car which drowns itself in the garage
My head a twisted, tattered mess, confessed to leave the engine on
But to go inside and then resign, hoping to find some meaning for my vacant life
I'll eat a meal of what may cause my heart to shine its own "check engine" light
But what does it matter if I ever reach a ripe old age
Around this sour fruit you should probably put the pills away
But I often get nostalgic when I'm lonely, so if you're hearing this
I'd like for you to know my life has been a learning experience
So far...
And yes, I do recognize the moments where the weakness wanes
Where choice is almost evident and I know that I give in to it
For what is a moment's happiness to soothe a second's sorrow
When every thought of healing is no more real than is tomorrow
There's a snapping sound at the very top
In ecstasy and aching
And I dare to hope it will not stop
Just as my hand starts shaking
Then off the ladder I will fall
And back again to dark and desperate
But down here you're all so damn beautiful
And I a blight on your collective
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