Fighting
Thru’
The
straight-edge scratch seems so much
Away from
that stimulant feel
Withdrawal’s
a depressive panic verging on manic
Nothing I
do makes me feel whole or true
I watch
enviously all the calm faces
I wonder
if any are on the ledge of hysteria gulch
Modern
pressures squeeze like pressure cookers
Each one
reaches for the ooze that makes nerves snooze
The feel
being on the edge of your skin
Wanting to
stay and run
Restlessness
and the denial, you’re on the edge of scream
What is
this human make-up that throws us into the extreme?
So
breathe deeply and evenly while the world shakes
No need
for that false warmth that actually hates
Being
free can’t come without the phoenix rendition
And
self-betrayal is utter dereliction
No comments:
Post a Comment