A Wandering Mind

I have worn holes

in my skin,

going through the motions,

again and again and again.

Sitting by the ocean,

I can hear the waves

and I’m thinking about giving them my cares

to take away.

I’m thinking about watching

these games go up in flames

and wandering the wilderness,

wild and untamed.

 

My mind is wandering away

from my head

and shoulders,

that are locked up

and in pain

from banging on the wall.

They say it’s such a little thing,

but the weight is taking over

and I’m on the edge,

just begging for a fall;

turns out I really matter after all.

 

Destruction is a thing

and pity is a wasteland,

I’ve wasted enough of each

to fill the world with beach sand.

If I could get away

from all this pointless reflex,

then I’d be right as rain;

I wonder what I’ll be next?

I’ve never been comforted

by my own disguise.

I’ve never been terrorized

by my own demise.

There’s something soothing

in losing your mind;

it turns out it was tethered

this whole time.

 

I would give forever,

if I could only find

a moment of time

I could call mine.

I think I’ve arrived

at the point I’m looking for;

had enough,

but still betting for more.

My hands will heal,

my mind will settle down

and I will be

more fun to have around;

just don’t leave me now.

 

HG – 2016

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