everyone i know goes away in the end
but i'm too realistic to have blinded eyes like that. with every word spoken in those early morning hours, it unbeknowingly pushed my lungs further into my stomach.
my importance in this grand scheme is minimal. which, truth be told, it shouldn't be. the gift of time should have granted me at least that much.
maybe it's leading me towards some twisted prize that is not of my design. if that is the case, then i'd almost rather die. because each word uttered is another papercut. each tear is fed another pill. each dream morphs into a morbid wish.
i continue to play the role, obedient and not the least bit arguementative. but the core of me is starting to choke. but i continue to hang on, breathing as deep as i can between migraine-induced sobs. it's all a cycle: physical to mental and back around again.
i feel trapped in a life that i didn't want. every time that i've "started over" has been a tumbling breakdown.
just a roof, a working vehicle, music, tv, pizza and beer, and maybe enough left over for a twice monthly manicure and the occassional concert ticket.
it should've been so easy...but it never is.
posted by: less-than3
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