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
