The Fall
By dyejunkie
Falling yet again I always seem to slip Not knowing how or where this comes Caused by some sudden trip The floor grows closer I think..."Man this is gonna sting" I crash to the floor, my face to the dirt But yet…I don’t feel a thing... Numb to the outside world Like an itch I’m dying to scratch All my mental wounds from wars long lost Not so simple as a cheap first-aid patch A fugitive, on the run from myself I’m following myself, watching my every move Rough and jagged round the edges A team of engineers, trying to make me smooth They chip away at the surface Re-molding the surface without reaching within Scared by every adjustment they make Like a balloon, with a death wish for the word ‘pin’ My soul is weary of my minds intent A battle of recovery and denial Wanting rest, but scared to lose this originality Holding myself up to trial Do I plead insanity? Or maybe they’ll simply prove me innocent Guilty for wasting a life so precious Lock me up...I’m done...thanks for the vent...It's been a while...but hey, I'm not going anywhere :) Written February 25th, 2002 © on Feb 25 2002 09:35 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"Falling yet again..."